


Dark Angel Drabble Diary

by bewarethemelodrama



Category: Dark Angel
Genre: Alternate Universe, Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, Angst, Canon Compliant, Comedy, Comfort, Drabble, Drabble Collection, Dreams, Dysfunctional Family, Emotional Hurt/Comfort, F/M, Family, Fluff and Crack, Friendship, Gen, Grief/Mourning, Guilt, Humor, Hurt/Comfort, Not Beta Read, PWP, Pain, Plot What Plot, Remembrance, Revenge, Sad, Survival, Survivor Guilt, Tragedy, Vendettas, otp, vengeance
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2012-05-19
Updated: 2013-01-11
Packaged: 2017-11-05 15:30:52
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence, Major Character Death
Chapters: 31
Words: 21,853
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/408043
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/bewarethemelodrama/pseuds/bewarethemelodrama
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Rather than have a dozen separate short stories, I've collected them together. So this is a place for all my Dark Angel related drabbles, one-shots and shorts to live. This includes my original 'Alphabet Challenge'. I suppose I don't mean drabble in the strict 100 word form. Various styles and tones, though mostly a bit grim. Many apologies.</p><p>I own nothing but the writing.</p><p>- A drabble: a moment in time, an image, captured. A fragment. A glimpse into a life other than our own. Significance can be attributed or taken away by the reader as they see fit, as the writer is merely a linguistic camera.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Absurd

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Basically, when I wrote this I had just watched season five episode ten of Supernatural and I was in a weird place from it. So I had to write something. And this is what came out.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Title: Absurd

They had covered his face.  
  
It seemed absurd to her. It looked absurd to her. The plain, grey jacket was a woman's, Max didn't know whose, and all it covered was his face. His body stuck out below it, stiff white fingers poking from the cuff of his sweater, one foot at an impossible angle from where he had tripped when he was brought down.  
  
But she had people to mobilise. They hadn't had time to grieve, and neither did she. She had people to mobilise.  
  
Later, in a quiet moment, when those left were grieving for the lost and celebrating the living, she could step aside. She went back to the bare concrete pathway where he lay and rested a hand on the thin cotton covering his face. She felt the contours of his cheeks, and his nose and his brow. She laid a kiss on the fabric of the jacket where she knew his mouth was.  
  
Even though she knew it was absurd, even though she thought it looked absurd, she couldn't bring herself to lift the jacket away, even now. Maybe she had grown so used to the barriers between them, maybe she couldn't bear for their moment of actual physical intimacy to be in death, or marred by loss.  
  
Maybe she was terrified that if she saw his face, saw those eyes, lifeless, it would haunt her until she joined him.  
  
She left the jacket where it was, and watched as the plain, grey fabric turned dark and the moisture dripping from her face made it cling to his. When she could see the outline of his glasses beneath, she left. She sent Alec and Joshua to take care of the body. She went to her high place, and gave herself time to grieve.  
  
But the image of wet, grey material clinging around the outline of a pair of glasses wouldn't leave her, and she could think of nothing, other than the fact that it felt absurd.  
  
\------  
  
Fic Fin.


	2. Forget Me Not

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Semi-inspired by these lines from a Lucie Silvas song:
> 
> 'Forget me not, I ask of you.  
> No matter where your life takes you to.  
> And if we never meet again?  
> Think of me every now and then.'

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Title: Forget Me Not

It was a simple stone slab. A simple piece of rock with a name and a few extra words chiselled into it in a surprisingly childish hand. Joshua's work of course.

And Alec couldn't go near it.

He had tried. Everyone in T.C., all of his nearest and dearest knew that. They'd seen it over and over again. Seen him, all decked out in black, at the entrance to the courtyard where a sad number of those slabs now sat. But he never went in. Just stood there by the rusted gates, staring in at a stone he was terrified to approach. Then he'd retreat, as always, to the safety of his apartment. To the solace that only solitude and a bottle of brown liquid could bring.

They left him to it.

No one wanted to say what they were all thinking. What he knew they were all thinking. No one wanted to say it, because they were family, and family sticks together. Family forgives and forgets. Family help each other through grief, through pain, through heartbreak and terror and anguish.

But it was hard, because no one could say anything that would help him. No one would say anything. Because another rule of family, is that they don't lie to each other. And the only way to alleviate Alec's grief, Alec's pain, his heartbreak and terror and anguish, would be to lie to him. To tell him that it wasn't his fault. That the stone, and the body buried in the wet Seattle ground beneath it, existed for any other reason than him failing in his duty.

He had failed. And though they had all forgiven him, no one would forget.

Especially Alec.

Mole told himself that Logan was the one to blame. That the damn cyber-journalist had no business calling on them – again and again – to help him and his damn vigilante crusades. It was obvious that they had more pressing problems at hand. Like providing food and shelter for two hundred transgenics and transhumans. But even Mole, in the darkest recesses of his heart, knew Alec was at fault as well. That if the X5 had just pushed away his goddamn pride and gone with her, she would still be alive.

And that was what it came down to. Everyone knew Alec would have given his own life to save Max's, but one ridiculous argument had led to her storming off on her own. To Alec letting her do it. To her having absolutely no backup or protection. To her being gunned down by a mafia henchman over Logan's idealistic vision of a Seattle without drugs.

So yeah, it was a simple stone slab. A monument with a few words chiselled in Josh's childish hand. A way to commemorate Max; their leader, their friend, their reluctant mother protecting them against the big bad world. And Alec couldn't go near it. Because he knew, that he above everything else, was a walking memory of Max. Because he had failed her. He didn't need to go near that damned stone. It wouldn't make anything better for him.

Alec would never forget Max, and while he still walked the rundown streets of the home she had helped create for their family, no one else would forget her either.

\------

Fic Fin.


	3. This broken world is rotten to the core

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> This was inspired by an image in my head. Let me know what you think. Depressing again... sorry. They won't all be though! Cross my heart and hope (not) to die!

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Title: This broken world is rotten to the core

There was blood on her face.

The day she showed up at his door, no warning, dirty, clothes torn, there was blood on her face and she didn't speak a word.

He didn't either. Just stepped out of the doorway and let her pass. The blood had already crusted over her cheek and lips, and the hair by her ear was matted with it. She walked into the bathroom and turned on the shower.

Alec went back to the sofa, but after fifteen minutes of listening to the sound of water hitting his bath tub, with nothing between it, he went and cautiously pushed open the bathroom door. Steam billowed out.

Max was standing by his mirror, staring at her reflection. She had taken her jacket off but she made no move toward the shower, instead lifted a hand to her face and smeared the blood on her damp skin. She didn't even turn her head to look at him when she spoke.

"Some of this is mine," there was no tone to her voice, no ups and downs, no tremble, no emotion. There was nothing. She sounded... dead. "Some of this is mine, and there's not a cut on me." Alec started at that, and realised she was right. The side of her face, her mouth and chin, there was blood all over her, but no sign of a wound. Her voice dropped lower as she turned to face him, she wiped her hand down her face and stared at the blood on it. "I saved his life with this blood, all that time ago. And now I've got it back again."

"Logan." Alec meant for it to sound like a question, but it came out a statement. A horrible truth. Max leant her back against the cabinet and silently sunk to the ground. She wrapped her arms around drawn up knees, and dropped her face down. She was shaking, but there were no tears.

"They weren't even White's people. Or trans. Or anything," she whispered. "They were just... people with guns looking for junk to steal." Alec sat down beside her, shoulder touching hers but nothing more. "I got there too late. They weren't even there anymore. It was just... mess and... Logan."

Alec wrapped his arm around her shoulder, familiar ground. Comforting for him and her. He rested his chin on her lowered head for a minute, then pulled back and looked down at her.

"I'm so sorry, Maxie." She squeezed her eyes tight shut. Tried to push back the tears. She couldn't. They came suddenly, and she was shaking even more. Body wracked, shuddering with her grief. The tears cut tracks through the blood on her cheeks, caught on the curve of her lips. Alec gathered her to him and hugged her tight.

They sat like that, moments, minutes, seconds meaning nothing. She tried to wipe away her tears and her hands came back red, and she wept harder. Alec said nothing. He just held her.

Finally, he lifted her up. She didn't resist, just curled into his shoulder. He stepped into the bathtub with her, and sat under the shower. He was drenched instantly, jeans sticking to his thighs, white t-shirt moulding to his pecs and stomach. He scooted forward a little, and positioned Max in front of him. He laid her head on his shoulder, and wrapped one arm around her middle. With the other, he wiped her face gently. The water was hitting the back of her head, and he washed it forward, down the side of her face, over her cheek and lips. There were still tears making their way down the other side of her face, and looking down he saw his t-shirt was staining pink down one side.

\--------------------------------------------------------------------------------

They weren't hard to find. Petty thieves never were if you knew the right people to ask, the other right people to bribe, which of them needed a slight shake or threat to loosen their tongues. Petty thieves were never difficult to find, unless they were transgenics. These weren't.

They weren't difficult for Alec to find.

He blurred. He was too fast and they realised it a moment too late. He crunched one man's nose, forcing cartilage past the point it should go. He kicked another in the head and threw the first's limp body into a dreadlocked man. He grabbed the second guy, and twisted his arm until he heard bone crunch. He grabbed the gun in his mangled fingers and twisted them. Alec blocked himself with the man's body as he fired at the remaining two men. Two bullets used, two lives ended. Quick, efficient.

Lydecker would be so proud.

The third guy had struggled out from underneath his buddy, and fired at Alec. Alec twisted again, and felt blood splatter across his face as the man he held was shot in the head by his friend. He threw him across, knocking the dreadlocked man to the floor once more. He blurred across to him, and kicked his weapon away. Alec stared down at the man.

"We're just trying to survive, dude," No pity, where once Alec may have felt some, came to him. Instead he felt Max. He saw her in his arms. Saw himself washing away the blood and tears. Logan's blood. Her blood. Her constant sacrifices.

"Shut up." He raised his foot, and stomped it down on the man's throat. He felt bone and cartilage crunch under his boot. He watched, coldly, waited out the man's struggles. Let him choke and shudder. Saw the blood pooling, foaming in his mouth. When he was sure he was gone, past the point of resurrection, Alec left.

\--------------------------------------------------------------------------------

There was blood on his face.

Alec walked through the door, and the first thing Max noticed was that there was blood on his face.

\------

Fic Fin.


	4. Crossfire

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Inspired by a song. I forget which one.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Title: Crossfire

We were running. Panting. Full pelt before blurring. Trees and shrubs tore at hair, clothes, skin.

And we ran and ran and ran.

Bullets spattered around our feet. Pock-marked earth and leaves and trees. Not skin. Not yet. Endless supply. Continuous. When would those mother fuckers run out of ammo?

When the job was done. Always the answer. Still didn't want to hear it. So we run and run and… you get the idea.

Breathe.

One foot.

Other.

Repeat.

Will morality even kick in? Mortality? Will they feel guilt when the other feels pain? Or will it just end, and move on to the next?

Rinse. Repeat. Return. Rebound. A perpetual cycle that only ends in dreams. Nothing to stop it. A juggernaut of escape and evade, strategising and surrender. No. Wait. Not that. Never that. Of all the things, never surrender.

The hand in mine is strong. The pulse, rapid. Grip tight and sure. It clamps secure fingers over the doubt struggling to rise from me. Beating tiny bird wings inside my ribs, fighting to be free. His flesh on mine is enough to sear the tips of the feathers. To make the doubt retreat. To bury it under the other emotions scrapping for priority.

Because we are strong. We are soldiers. We are together, so we will win.

We emerge from the forest suddenly, feet hitting asphalt sending shock through me. We're on a road. Leading where? Leading from? I don't know these things. On the other side is a field. No cover there. No cars in sight. No hope.

No hope?

He pulls me into his arms as they come. A bedraggled hunting party. Guns trained on us as they labour to catch their breath, as they emerge from between the trees beside us. Another two come out further up the road. We are between two sets of cold metal. I feel trapped, cornered. Want to hiss my displeasure like the cat I supposedly am. Instead I stay. Perfectly still. Two warm, solid arms encasing me. Protecting me from the crossfire I feel is sure to come. They would be stupid not to shoot us.

They are stupid.

We are told to separate. We do. We are told to walk towards them. We do. We are told to go slowly. We exchange a look. We don't.

We leap simultaneously, over the stunned, stupid heads of our pursuers. Then we are back in the forest, crashing through foliage, bullets spattering the ground behind us once more. But we are ahead now. Adrenaline seeps though my veins. Merges with the power that is already programmed into me. The will to live that they never really understood how to stamp out, irregardless of science and psyops and the other power that money and military bestow.

We are soldiers. Our pursuers only play pretend. The gun does not make the soldier. And we are fast. So much, impossibly faster, than the already exhausted uniforms still chasing us.

The fear, the adrenaline, it all seeps away to nothing as the gap between us and then lengthens. Then it is just us. Just my brother and me, and we are free.

But then I wake up.

I blink.

Once.

Twice.

I push through the shroud of sleep.

My brother and I, we're not free.

Because Ben didn't make it out of the forest that day. Because Ben is dead. 

And because I will forever be stuck, between guilt, and the knowledge that what I did was right. That in its way, it was just. But it was also terrible. Because it wasn't something inescapable, like a crossfire, that killed my brother.

It was me.

\------

Fic Fin.


	5. The price we pay for angst

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Pure Crack!Fic. 90% dialogue. What ever you do, just don't question it. You'll go crazy. This is mostly to give y'all a break from my depressing tendencies.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Title: The price we pay for angst

Original Cindy was on a mission. The mission, and she damn well chose to accept it, was to get her fine-ass best friend out the house, out of her moping, and hopefully under something stress relieving.

The whole Logan and the virus deal had hit the girl hard. She barely ate, slept even less than usual. When she wasn't out in the middle of the night on her Ninja, she was just sitting around. Moping. Cindy did not stand for moping.

She entered Max's room, making little effort to be quiet. It wasn't like her girl was sleeping anyway. Instead she was perched on the windowsill as ever, staring out at the perpetual Seattle rain. Cindy flung herself down on her stomach onto Max's mattress.

"Whatcha doin', Boo?" she asked, even though she knew the answer.

"Nothin'." Max replied, shooting her a small smile. "Just watchin' the world go by."

"Uh huh." Cindy's immaculate, if she said so herself (which she did), eyebrows rose. "How 'bout you try joinin' it for a bit instead?"

"Not feelin' it tonight." Cindy prepared herself. This was going to be hard, but she would get the job done.

"You're not feelin' anything, any night, Boo." She stated. "You'd have had to participate in life in the last month to even recognize feelin' any more." Max swung to face her now, bringing her bunched knees down to dangle her feet over the window ledge.

"Harsh."

"Harsh but fair, but Original Cindy is here to mend your angsty heart."

"Why do I feel worried?" said Max slowly, a feline suspiciousness coming over her features.

"No need to worry." Cindy assured her, confidently. "I know exactly what you need."

"And what is that?"

"I've lined you up with a date."

"Okay, I'm worried."

"Look girl, you are way too hot to live your life pining. I say, use what science so finely crafted."

"Your answer to my problems is to go crawl on someone?"

"On, under, back to front, I don't care. Jus' a long I don't have to witness these rainy day blues no more." Max wrinkled her nose.

"Back to front?"

"You wanna be celibate? Cuz that shit ain't right. Even Normal gets laid."

"Eurgh, mental pictures." Max groaned.

"Jus' sayin' Boo. You're going on this date. Even if nuthin' happens. Cuz you need to get back out in the world."

"I told ya, Cin', I ain't feelin' it tonight."

"No. Girl, you're going. You might enjoy yourself."

Max pouted. Like it would do anything.

"Besides," Cindy added, oh-so-innocently. "He'll be here to pick you up in five minutes."

"Five minutes?" Max shrieked. She looked down at the tank top and sweatpants she was wearing. Hardly date worthy. "I could kill you, woman." she said, narrowing her eyes at Cindy. "Wouldn't even break a sweat." Cindy pulled a slinky black mini dress from underneath her. She gave Max a broad smile and held it out. Max took it from her and looked over it appraisingly. "Maybe I'll kill you another day."

"Figured that." Max wriggled into the dress, which, she hated to admit, actually made her look pretty damn good. She started finger-combing the tangles out of her curly hair.

"So, who is the guy?" she asked.

"Wouldn't want to ruin the surprise." Cindy answered, evasively.

"Do I know him?"

"Oh yeah."

"Well?"

"I'd say so." Max turned away from the mirror, where she had started to apply her lipstick.

"Is this gonna be weird?"

"Just have an open mind, Boo." Max's eyes narrowed suspiciously once more.

"Cindy, who is it?"

"Nuh-uh," said Cindy, firmly. Even shaking her head for emphasis. "No way am I givin' it away. He'll be here any minute. Needless to say, you get along great, and he was full on enthusiastic to volunteer to be your date. What more do you need?" They both heard the knock at the apartment door then, and Cindy grinned. "Speak of the devil…"

"And he shall arrive." Finished Max. She slipped quickly into some black stilettos, and cast Cindy one last suspicious look.

"Go on." Her roommate encouraged. Max sighed, and approached the door. She smoothed down the front of the dress, and told herself not to worry. That whoever was on the other side of the door couldn't be that bad if she was friends with them anyway.

Max opened the door. Sketchy held a bunch of flowers and a goofy grin.

"Hi Ma..."

Max slammed the door.

"I'd rather be celibate."

\------

Fic Fin.


	6. Anything

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The next 26 stories are from my 'Alphabet Challenge', which originated at nickeldime17's 'From A to Z' on Fanfiction.net  
> This is my take on her alphabet drabble challenge about Max and Alec. All of these were written between February 2009 and January 2010.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Title: A is for Anything

"You're an idiot," it was a whisper, so low that Logan couldn't hear her. But then, it wasn't intended for Logan. Alec squeezed her hand and she saw water splash on their interlaced fingers. It took a moment before she realised it was her own tears.

Max wondered dumbly if she should be happy. She'd got what she wanted after all. The cure was there, in her other hand. She and Logan could finally be happy. But at what expense? She never wanted that happiness to cost anyone else their own, never wanted it to affect anyone else at all. She never wanted to lose anyone for their sake of her relationship. She never wanted to lose…

"Had to be done," his voice was hoarse and barely audible. She looked at Alec's face sharply. His left eye was bruised, already swollen shut. Blood streaked his neck and the side of his face. It seemed viciously dark in comparison to his paling skin. She closed her eyes, tried to stop the tears from falling, but apparently her body, or maybe her mind, had other plans.

What was the point of a cure to stop her killing Logan, if the cost was the life of someone else she cared about? When Joshua had stumbled into T.C., literally howling for help, her brain hadn't registered the limp bundle in his arms. She thought Big Fella was the one hurt. When she blurred into command central from her office, her first thought was that the blood on his face was his. She thought she felt her heart stop at his puppy-like whimper. _Alec_. That was all. Just his name. Alec was unconscious, covered in blood and dirt. His hands were clasped protectively over his chest. Over bullet holes and the precious vial of clear liquid.

"Maxie?" she looked down at him now. Tubes were coming out from his arms, his chest, his nose. There was white gauze covering his chest, only one bare shoulder visible. Four dark patches marked the otherwise sterile white across his chest. She tried again to stop the tears. No luck. She leant and kissed the top of his head.

"Why would you… what would you…?" he cut her off with a small smile.

"For you to be happy? Anything." she closed her eyes tightly. Felt Alec convulsively clench her hand. Faintly heard a voice beside her.

"He's crashing!" Gem pushed her out the way. Ordered her out of the med-bay in fact. Chain of command was the furthest thing from anyone's mind. Joshua had to physically lift her into the hallway, not because she was fighting, rather because she was frozen. All the fight in her was gone. She didn't want to move let alone fight. She didn't want to register what she knew was in front of her. Didn't want to think about it, because thinking about it would make her feel it. And feeling it would make it real. All she could register, think, feel, was Alec's one last word.

 _Anything_.  
  
\------  
  
Fic Fin.


	7. Brick

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Another from my 'Alphabet Challenge', which originated from nickeldime17's Max/Alec drabble challenge 'From A to Z' on Fanfiction.net.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Title: B is for Brick

" _ALEC_!"

Alec briefly wondered if the noise was a shriek, a call or a yell. Briefly because – before he could start devising a classification system – a small hand grabbed the back of his collar and dragged him through the door he had just purposefully walked away from. He  _knew_  he should have blurred.

"This isn't over!" He turned and faced the… hissing ball of rage seemed appropriate for today, which was Terminal City's C.O. and, did he dare? Hell, of course he did. He rolled his eyes at her.

"Why bother Max? Talking to you is like talking to a brick wall sometimes!"

"Oh really? Well do brick walls do this?" she popped him round the back of the head. He should have expected it to be honest. He tilted his head and scowled at her, well… maybe glared is a better term.

"You're an unbelievable pain in the ass," and just for good measure. "Bitch."

"Oh, here  _I_  was thinking I was a brick."

"Brick wall," he corrected.

"Whatever!" He winced. Where ever Joshua was, doggy dog definitely heard that one.

"What's done is done, what is…" he paused, classification system back in play.  _Call, shout, yell, scream, aha! Shriek_. "Shrieking at me going to achieve? I suppose if it makes you feel better…"

"You grabbed my ass in a command meeting!" he smirked, he couldn't help it. It was funny. "The only command meeting that Logan has ever attended!"

"And will ever attend judging by the look on his face," Alec chipped in brightly. She swung for him but he sidestepped it. "Oh Maxie, fool me once…  _ow_!"

He hadn't thought about the other hand.

"I'm you're  _boyfriend_ remember?" Okay, so he hadn't meant for that to sound quite so sneering. "Technically that entitles me to grab whatever I like." She squared up to him. He realised for the second time that day how short she was. He grinned.

"Not," she hissed between clenched teeth. "In command meetings." He did a double take. Quite an overdramatic one.

"So any other time is fine?" He had to do it really. The torment wouldn't have been complete without it. It was just a quick grab. So maybe he squeezed a little harder than he should have, and maybe using both hands was slightly unnecessary. He hadn't expected her to throw the chair though. That was new.

He didn't know why he tried, because really, talking to her was like talking to a brick wall.  
  
\------  
  
Fic Fin.


	8. Cold

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Another from my 'Alphabet Challenge', which originated from nickeldime17's Max/Alec drabble challenge 'From A to Z' on Fanfiction.net.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Title: C if for Cold

Four hundred push-ups and six cold showers. It was only 5pm. Max thought that she might have killed herself if O.C. hadn't been with her. Or worse.

But she wouldn't think about the worse. Couldn't think about it. Definitely wouldn't think about the way she had stroked Sketchy's face when he had brought her and O.C's pay-cheques. Or the look on Sketchy's face. Thank god for O.C.

It had earned her one hundred push-ups, but thank god for O.C.

She wouldn't think about the fact that O.C. had confiscated her pager, so when Logan came to see her he had the door shut in his face. Another hundred push-ups and a phone call to Joshua. Way O.C. figured it, no matter how bad heat got, cats and dogs still didn't mix. O.C. is a smart lady. Thank god for O.C.

She wouldn't think about when Alec had come to see her, wondering why the hell she wasn't in Terminal City, O.C. had locked her in the bathroom and made Joshua stand in front of the door. That was her sixth cold shower. It lasted for an hour and she was shaking when she stepped out. She wrapped herself in a towel, trying to ignore Alec's murmured voice in the kitchen, and knocked softly on the door. Joshua peered at her suspiciously before he let her out. She slunk into her bedroom without looking at him. She pulled on a pair of baggy sweatpants and a tank top and curled up under the covers of her bed. Even with her cold, wet hair, and even through her shaking she could still feel the burning starting again.

She wouldn't think about her disappointment at the sound of the door opening and shutting when Alec left and O.C. came to check on her. She was starting to sweat again, and ache. O.C. brought her an ice pack and Max wiped it over her forehead, over her chest, on the back of her neck and was thankful for the chill of it against her burning skin.

No way could she think about how she sat bolt upright when Alec had knocked on the door again. She was ordered to stay in the bedroom, but looked out the crack in the door frame.

She refused to think about how her eyes had widened at the sight of Alec carrying three huge bags of ice through into the bathroom. How his muscles had strained under his black T-shirt.

She certainly wouldn't admit that she'd actually licked her lips at the sight of him.

She had snuck –  **not**  blurred – past Joshua and O.C. into the bathroom and shut the door behind her softly. Alec had looked at her. He poured the rest of the bag of ice into the tub which was already full of cold water. She would swear that it wasn't her fault she had silenced any smart comment Alec would have made by kissing him.

Alec had ridden his motorcycle without a helmet and his lips were cold. His hands were cold from carrying the ice. If anyone asked, Max didn't moan softly in the back of her throat as his hands swept down her shoulders and along her burning arms.

She also absolutely wouldn't think about Alec's pained expression when Joshua grabbed the back of his collar and hauled him out the room. Or how O.C. pushed Max, fully clothed, into the bath of ice. If anyone asked O.C. she would have sworn that Max actually hissed at her.

It earned her two hundred push-ups, and for the first time that day, Max didn't thank god for O.C.  
  
\------  
  
Fic Fin.


	9. Daughter

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Another from my 'Alphabet Challenge', which originated from nickeldime17's Max/Alec drabble challenge 'From A to Z' on Fanfiction.net.
> 
> This is set after 'The Berrisford Agenda'. A conversation they didn't – and still can't – have. Pretty short, but lengthening it just felt wrong, and it is a drabble challenge after all.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Title: D is for Daughter

Max pushed the door open and walked stealthily down the stairs. It wasn't that she was sneaking, she just wanted to be sure she wasn't going to get her head bitten off. Alec sat at the piano, dry blood crusted over his swollen lip. He didn't look up at her, just sighed and closed the lid of the instrument.

"What do you want Max?" She shrugged and crossed the short space between them.

"I know you don't want me here. But here I am." He still wouldn't look at her, so she leant against the piano. "I get that you don't want to talk about it right now. But I just need to know one thing." He looked up at her then, sharply and suspiciously with narrowed eyes.

"What was she? To you I mean?"

"What was she?" Alec laughed hollowly, eyes intense but guarded. "She a spoiled rich kid," he paused, looked away from her once more, "but she was beautiful, she was kind, she was a friend, a lover. She was someone's daughter and I..." He couldn't finish, couldn't look at her.

Max pushed off the piano. She hesitated, before wrapping her arms around his shoulders and laying her cheek against the top of his head. Alec squeezed his eyes shut. He lifted a hand and grasped one of hers briefly. When his hand dropped back down by his side, she stepped back.

"Okay."  
  
\------  
  
Fic Fin.


	10. Enough

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Another from my 'Alphabet Challenge', which originated from nickeldime17's Max/Alec drabble challenge 'From A to Z' on Fanfiction.net.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Title: E is for Enough

_Alec only outsmarts Alec. He doesn't know himself. Look. Outside, lots of pretty colors. Tricks and treats. Inside, darkness. Confusion. Alec._

Max wouldn't follow him. Alec knew that. If he left, she wouldn't follow him. Pride, hurt, fear to leave the others at T.C. behind, whatever it was inside her was irrelevant in a way, because it came down to the same thing. She wouldn't follow him.

Which made him pause each time he pulled the duffel bag from beneath his bed.

He thought the whole transgenic nation idea was wack. Idealistic, almost admirable, but wack nonetheless. Providing the world one very specific bulls-eye to aim for was strategically ridiculous and almost suicidal. They could just come and burn it to the ground like Max had done to Manticore.

So why could he still not leave the fourth, fifth, twelfth, twentieth time he reached for that damn bag?

He stood, staring at it, and didn't hear Max come in.

"Going somewhere?" He jumped a little, no one but Max would have noticed it. Her amused smile when he glanced at her showed that she did. He shrugged.

"Considering the hazardous task of laundry."

"Right," she sounded suspicious and Alec shoved the bag back under the bed.

"Maybe another day," he pushed past her, let his hand unnecessarily trace her hip, and went into the living room. "Was there something you wanted?" She was frowning and looked annoyed. Not really all that different to usual but Alec was glad to get a rise out of her.

"Why do you always think I want something?" Alec stopped in his beeline for beer and gave her a look. A look that said both  _do you really want me to answer that?_ and  _because you do_  without him having to actually say either. She rolled her eyes and he turned back to the fridge. "It's late, there's nothing going on in command, just thought we could hang out." He grabbed two beers, crossed and sat on the sofa. He held one out to her.

"Whatever you say," she pulled off her jacket and dropped it on an armchair. She took a beer and flopped onto the sofa beside him. "Not that I don't like the company, but Logan busy or something?" She scowled at him, atta girl.

"Like I said, it's late. I don't know what he's doing. 'M not his keeper." She relaxed back into the sofa and Alec flicked on the TV. He changed it from a soap powder infomercial and settled on some cheesy Van Damme action movie. He saw Max swig a mouthful of beer and settled back beside her, resting an arm over the back of the sofa behind her.

"Alec. The bag…" he grabbed the TV remote and flicked channels. Van Damme definitely wasn't distracting enough for this conversation.

"Is just a bag." He looked sideways at her, and was almost sure he saw a little bit of fear in her eyes. She downed her beer and placed the bottle on the table in front of them. Make that a lot of fear. She chewed her lower lip uncomfortably. Make that a  _whole lotta_  fear. He sighed and put his bottle beside hers. He shifted closer to her and put his arm around her shoulders. She laid her head against his arm.

"I'm not goin' anywhere Maxie," she was still chewing her lip and he tipped her chin up so she was looking at him. "I'm not." Her eyes were still uncertain, grew even more so when he leant closer. He dipped his head down to meet hers and brushed his lips over hers, infinitely softly. He heard her sharp intake of breath and caught her top lip between his. She lifted a hand to his face and pulled him closer, laid her other hand on his chest. She let his tongue enter her mouth, stroked it with her own. Alec's pulse was thundering. She pulled away, eyes frantic. She detached herself from him and stood. He rolled his head onto the back of the sofa before copying her. He grabbed her arm.

"Max…" she ripped her arm away.

"Don't," she shook her head. "Just don't." He held his hands up, placating. She pushed her hair away from her face.

"I'd like to say I'm sorry, but I'm not," she didn't even have it in her to glare at him.

"The whole Logan deal is twisted. You know that right?" She didn't say anything, but that was answer enough.

"I need you. As my friend, as my second. Can't that be enough?" He pushed her back down onto the sofa at her whisper and leant over her. He kissed her again, hard, resisted the urge to smirk when she didn't pull away. He ran his tongue over her lower lip and pulled back. He didn't stand though, rather stayed with either hand braced against the back of the sofa, eyes level with hers.

"I don't know. Can it?"  
  
\------  
  
Fic Fin.


	11. Frosting

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Another from my 'Alphabet Challenge', which originated from nickeldime17's Max/Alec drabble challenge 'From A to Z' on Fanfiction.net.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Title: F is for Frosting

Alec had never been one for over-sentimentalism.

He didn't get the wine and dine thing that Logan loved. If you know you like someone, why go through the whole charade? It was just an excuse to try and show off how much money you had if anyone asked him.

He didn't get why girls were supposed to like flowers (though chocolate he did get). They weren't useful for anything, even if they  _were_  pretty. Plus they just died in a few days and had to be thrown away.

He didn't get the point of birthday cards. True he didn't know when his birthday was, but if he did he wouldn't want people to waste money on little pieces of paper to remind him of it.

He didn't get Valentine's Day. Surely if you loved someone, you didn't need a day to prove it? And if you did, there were always anniversaries. It was a reminder to those who were single that they were, and for some reason this usually made them feel bad. The whole day was a pointless, fraudulent excuse for a holiday in his mind.

He didn't get the formal wear thing. In his opinion, people were usually more attractive in  _less_ clothes, not more. Plus, men should never wear bows, around their necks or anywhere else. He concluded that it was a money thing again.

Which is why he was surprised when his breath hitched at the sight of Max. She strolled through command in a floor length dress, looking completely at ease. It was black, low-cut enough to be sexy but still be respectable, and backless. Two strips of fabric, studded with rhinestones, crossed over her otherwise bare skin. Her hair was piled on top of her head in dark ringlets, tendrils skimming her cheekbones. There was a hint of pale gloss on her full lips, and dark kohl rimming her eyes.

"Some occasion I'm not aware of?" he asked her dryly when she reached him. She cocked her head. Smiled at him.

"Eyes Only mission. Have to steal some computer disk or somethin'. The guy's holding a big party and it's easier to just pretend to be a guest than sneak past them all." She twirled around, the skirt swishing around her ankles. "You like it?"

"Put a pig in a dress and it's still a pig." Max looked hurt, but recovered enough to pop him around the back of the head.

"I'll take that as a yes, you look smokin'." He smirked at her, but his eyes were serious.

"Take it as a yes, you look beautiful." Max was taken aback. She smiled again, if a little uncertainly. Her pager beeped from inside the satin clutch bag on her wrist.

"I gotta blaze."

"Of course."

He still liked her better in tight jeans and a tank top – preferably less – but he had to concede that she looked good with a bit of frosting.  
  
\------  
  
Fic Fin.


	12. Girl

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Another from my 'Alphabet Challenge', which originated from nickeldime17's Max/Alec drabble challenge 'From A to Z' on Fanfiction.net.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Title: G is for Girl

Asha was a girl. With her bright blonde hair, legs up to her armpits and elfin features, Asha was definitely a girl.

Gem was a girl. She was a mother. She wore pink. Gem was definitely a girl.

Cindy was a girl who liked girls. Cindy had curves to bounce off and an insane facial regime. If you told Cindy that, she'd knock your head off, so if asked, Cindy was definitely a woman, not a girl.

Max was scary. Max had a boy's name. Max rode a boy's bike. Max rarely wore skirts. Max could drink and fight better than most guys that Alec knew. Max didn't wear pink, Max wore black. Lots of layers of black. But despite all this, Alec knew that Max was a girl.

Max liked bubble baths. Max wore tight jeans on purpose. Max swung her hips when she walked in the way that way only girls can. Max had long, shiny, girly hair. Max painted her nails. Max unconsciously mothered Joshua. Max scowled when Alec talked to other girls. Max moaned into his mouth with he pressed her up against the wall outside Crash. Max's nails, as they raked down his bare back later, were too long to belong to a boy. Max's waist, when Alec grasped it between his hands, was too tiny to belong to a boy. Plus Alec didn't do that to boys, because Alec liked girls. So Max was definitely a girl.

When they woke up in the morning, bodies curled around each other, skin still damp with sweat, that was when Alec knew. Max wasn't just any girl, Max was  _his_  girl.  
  
\------  
  
Fic Fin.


	13. Hero

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Another from my 'Alphabet Challenge', which originated from nickeldime17's Max/Alec drabble challenge 'From A to Z' on Fanfiction.net.
> 
> Not too keen on this one. Perhaps needs a bit more expansion at some point.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Title: H is for Hero.

She would **not** say it. Not a chance in hell. No freakin' way.

"The lady's waitin', Maxie," she glared at him and looked back to the eager young reporter sitting on the chair opposite them.

"I guess… he was integral… in a way," Alec snorted and she wanted very much to smack him. She restrained herself, for the reporter's sake. "I mean, obviously, he saved my life and… uh…"

"Sounds like Mr McDowell is really the, unsung hero of the piece, if you will?" the reporter held her pen to her mouth. Max resisted the urge to laugh.

"Unsung? You should hear him in Crash on a Saturday night. There's nothing unsung about it. He uses it as a pick up line with every girl in there!"

"Okay! That's enough for today, right?" Alec ushered the reporter out the room, thumping Max on the arm as he passed her. She rolled her eyes at him as he shut the door to his apartment and scowled at her.

"Max, I did save your life, would it hurt you to make me look good for once?"

"Like you wouldn't believe," it was Alec's turn to roll his eyes. He flopped onto their sofa and Max stretched out her legs over him. He absently took hold of her ankle and squeezed it.

"You heard what she called me right?" his smile was mostly genuine happiness, and only about a quarter smug. He slipped a hand up under the hem of her jean leg and rubbed her calf. Max relaxed back in the sofa, inner cat luxuriating at the feel of his touch as she murmured, only about a quarter half-heartedly.

"Yeah sure, you're a frickin' hero."  
  
\------  
  
Fic Fin.


	14. Imposter

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Another from my 'Alphabet Challenge', which originated from nickeldime17's Max/Alec drabble challenge 'From A to Z' on Fanfiction.net.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Title: I is for Imposter

Max looked up from her desk when the door slammed with a bang. It was Alec. Naturally. Only he would dare do that. The side of his face was bruised and he was glaring at her.

"What happened to you?" her annoyance at the door-slamming dissipated at the sight of his face.

"Logan happened to me," she gaped at him. Concern was replaced with trying desperately not to laugh at the fact that Alec got nailed by an Ordinary.

" _Logan_  did that?" her voice was incredulous, which just irritated Alec more.

"Didn't I just say that?" he snapped. She narrowed her eyes suspiciously.

"What did you do?" Alec narrowed his eyes back at her.

"Of course. Shoulda known you'd think it was all idiot, screw-up Alec's fault," he glowered at her and threw himself into the chair opposite her. "Couldn't possibly be the fault of the precious freakin' Eyes Only. The man without fault!" She let him simmer for a moment, but didn't even try to soften her tone as she flicked her pen between her fingers.

"So?" Alec shook his head at her monosyllable, but let her tone wash over his head. It wasn't exactly new and unusual.

"Mr holier-than-thou was drunk as a friggin' skunk. He asked me to come over because he  _said_  he had supplier info for T.C. Soon as I walked in the door though, he used that damn exoskeleton to kick a stool at my head. A  _metal_  stool." The last phrase was almost a growl, and Max grimly realised just how angry Alec was.

"Why?" As Alec had spoken the pen-flicking had got a little more rapid. Alec glared. His eyes were accusing.

"Why do you think? Drunken  _dick_ wanted to take out some aggression on your  _boyfriend_."

"Well you must have done something to provoke him." she snapped. Her pen flew out of her grip and smacked into the wall. Alec barely even glanced at it, so intently was he staring at her.

"No. Actually. I didn't even smack the jerk back though I  _really_ wanted to. Today he just wanted to be a tool." Max released a breath she hadn't realised she was holding. Logan wasn't hurt. One problem less. Now she just had to deal with a snarling Alec. Easy enough… Maybe.

"Thanks for not hurting him," her voice was sincere, and Alec looked shocked. His mutter almost sounded reluctant.

"Yeah well, next time he might not be so lucky."

"Seriously Alec, thanks. You know he… we've gone through a lot." Alec shook his head and stood abruptly.

"We? It's been almost two years since you told him you were with me. And I haven't corrected it because you asked me. There's no 'we' anymore and this," he pointed to the bruise on his face, "was not part of the bargain. Tell him to get the hell over it or next time I'll throw down. How long has it even been since the two of you  _touched_? Two and a half years? Three?" She was shocked. He was shaking with anger. She mirrored him and stood, adrenalin racing as her own anger surfaced.

"Just because we can't touch doesn't mean we can't feel." Alec's laugh was short.

"Spare the Hallmark crap Max, it doesn't suit you." Max felt like he'd slapped her.

"You  _unbelievable_  bastard. You think this is  _easy_  for me don't you?"

"No, but I think you could make it easier if you really wanted to," she froze, like the revelation was an insult. The wounded look in her eyes made Alec's anger start to dissipate. Not entirely, but a little.

"What the hell would you know?" he shook his head at her and spoke slowly, like he was speaking to a child.

"I know you need to just get rid of this martyr complex. This  _doomed love_  approach. It's twisted and fake and your obsession with it is turning you into a shadow of who you are," he sighed and sat on the edge of the desk. "Who you  _should_  be. The Logan crap is stopping you from doing your job, your  _duty_  to T.C. You're a washed out imposter in this office. And I think you know it." She pressed her lips together so they formed a thin, furious line.

"Get out," it was almost a hiss and he instinctively squared up to her. If her instinct said flight, his was determinedly fight. "I'm not kiddin' Alec. Get  _out_."

"Make me," she swung at him. A heavy left hook that rattled his head and hit him exactly on Logan's bruise. He shoved her with full force back into the wall. She was stunned, but shook it off quickly. She kicked him in the chest, making him stagger back a few steps and he ducked when she lashed out again. He grabbed her arms and pulled her into a bear hug. She struggled against him, swore, hit where she could, tried to trip him, but he held her there until she stilled.

"The ordinary is messing with your head, and you're letting him. You're stronger than that Maxie. You are." She tried again to shake him off but Alec just rested his chin on top of her head and tightened his grip. "You're stronger than that." He repeated. She fell still and her breath hitched. She was shaking, telling herself it was an adrenalin come-down. "You are." He whispered. When Alec felt the first wet patch on his T-shirt, he slackened his grip a little. Her arms dropped down to her sides, and he stroked her hair softly. When he felt her arms raise he tensed, ready for her to shove him away, but they wrapped around his waist instead. He let her hug him silently and kissed the top of her head.

She finally pulled away. She cleared her throat and sat at her desk without looking at him.

"Ok. I've got work to do. Get out of here."

He nodded. Picked up her pen and laid it on the desk. The door shut softly behind him, but he heard her whisper and smirked.

"Thanks Smart-Alec."  
  
\------  
  
Fic Fin.


	15. Jealous

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Another from my 'Alphabet Challenge', which originated from nickeldime17's Max/Alec drabble challenge 'From A to Z' on Fanfiction.net.
> 
> This one was actually inspired by a review I received when I posted the Challenge on Fanfiction.net originally. Speaking of reviews, please leave comments if you like any of these short stories :)

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Title: J is for Jealous

How things got so out of hand, he wasn't sure. It was meant to be a one time thing. Revenge for her being such a cockblock at Crash. Again. He should have known she'd play dirty.

His expression was almost triumphant when Max had walked into her apartment and found a blonde X-7 straddling Alec on  _her_  sofa. His expression was petrified when he walked into his apartment and found Max in his shower. She didn't even have the decency to look embarrassed when he pulled the curtain back. She didn't have anyone with her (thank god) but she was completely naked, soap suds cascading over her bare breasts. Alec retreated hastily to his bedroom, not sure whether he should be glad of his photographic memory or not.

The second time she caught him it was a redhead. And they were in her bed. He was almost hopeful when he got back to his apartment, but the shower was empty. She wasn't there. Neither were the left of his four pairs of boots. The right boot from each were lined up militantly. She'd even polished them. No lefts. He found them in her freezer three days later.

Bitch.

It took her two days to find all of her stolen underwear, soaking in red dye in Alec's bathtub. When he got home she and Logan were eating pasta in his kitchen. Logan looked uncomfortable, but she flashed Alec a sly grin. That was too far, even for her. He left without speaking to either of them.

When she got into T.C. that morning, she had to push past a squawking Dalton. He tried to barricade the door to her office but fled after Max threatened to put him on crèche duty for the increasing number of X-5 babies. It was a brunette this time, sweaty limbs tangled with Alec's on the floor in front of Max's desk. She stared for a minute at their sleeping forms, then shut the door. Hard. Slammed really. They both woke with a start. Max glared at the girl.

"Out." She may have been an ordinary, but the girl knew a command when she heard one. She dressed quickly and fled. Alec stretched and pulled on his jeans lazily.

"What you did was worse," he stated. There was no mistaking the disgust in her eyes as she cocked her head.

"Jealous?" Alec flinched. A slow smile spread across his face. He got it. Finally.

"Yeah."

"Good."

It took three steps to cross the space between them. Less than thirty seconds to kick off her shoes, pull of her leather jacket, tank top, jeans and very red underwear. Less than three seconds to pull of his jeans. Almost an hour to fully reclaim the spot in front of her desk. Two bites on barcodes to put an end to their feud.

He didn't know how things got so out of hand, but this wasn't a one time thing. And he would never call her a cockblock again.  
  
\------  
  
Fic Fin.


	16. Kiss

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Another from my 'Alphabet Challenge', which originated from nickeldime17's Max/Alec drabble challenge 'From A to Z' on Fanfiction.net.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Title: K is for Kiss

Alec's favourite time of day was dawn. At dawn, no matter what time she had slunk into bed beside him, the light filtering through the window woke Max up. At dawn, because she was awake, she woke him up too. Her kisses were feather light along his jaw until he opened his eyes, then her lips were on his. The slim fingers of her hand on the side of his face were warm. The steel of her home-crafted wedding band felt cold in comparison. One last, lingering kiss before she curled into his side and he wrapped his arms around her. He inhaled the scent of her hair with a quiet smile as they both dozed off to sleep.

He couldn't think of a better way to be woken up every morning.

Alec loved dawn.

Alec loved dawn, because Alec loved his wife.  
  
\------  
  
Fic Fin.


	17. Last

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Another from my 'Alphabet Challenge', which originated from nickeldime17's Max/Alec drabble challenge 'From A to Z' on Fanfiction.net.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Title: L is for Last

This was her last chance. Alec stood across from her, his eyes begging, and he had said as much already. The white dress she was wearing, the big church they stood outside, they made it her last chance.

Logan waited inside, most of their friends and family assembled behind him in the pews. There had been a cure after all, written into the runes in her genetic code. The fragile amnesty over transgenic rights had gone through just after they defeated White and his snake cult. Logan had proposed before she went to shake hands with the Governor of Washington on live television.

She hadn't wanted a big wedding, but it was important to Logan to do it all right after they had waited for so long. So she agreed. She hadn't wanted to wear white, but according to Logan it was tradition. So she had done it. She hadn't wanted to get married in a church, but Logan insisted. So she relented.

Alec's words, standing on the wide steps of the old Seattle church, had scared her. Another thing that would upset Logan, another thing that she wasn't sure if she wanted. Cindy stood ahead of them, unsure as she held up her floor length bridesmaid dress with one hand. Alec was meant to be wearing a tux, but instead he was there in his bike gear, hair rumpled from the helmet. He couldn't wear the tux, because he couldn't go to the wedding, because he knew it was all just so wrong.

Alec wasn't the type of guy to steal someone else's girl, which was why he had done it this way. Why he had caught her as she made her way up the sweeping steps, O.C. holding her bouquet and Gem lifting the train of her dress. Why he hadn't demanded anything of her, or made any flourishing declaration of love. He had instead told her, in halting but certain tones, that if Logan wasn't what she wanted, when she really thought about it and examined herself, now was her last chance to realise it. Because if she went into that church now and pledged forever, she was too damn stubborn to not try and maintain forever.

So now was her last chance.

And Max was terrified.

Because Alec was right.  
  
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Fic Fin.


	18. Mind

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Another from my 'Alphabet Challenge', which originated from nickeldime17's Max/Alec drabble challenge 'From A to Z' on Fanfiction.net.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Title: M is for Mind

The day Max's world came crashing down around her ears, was not the day that Terminal City was raided. It was not the day that Cindy came to her in tears, and told her that Jam Pony had been bombed. It was not the day that Cindy packed up and moved from Seattle to the relative safety of Canada, and took Joshua with her. It was not the day that Mole died, cigar still in his mouth as a mob took a crowbar to his head. It was not even the day that Logan told her he was moving to New York with Asha to start up a global Eyes Only network.

The day Max's world came crashing down around her ears was the day that Alec, in angry tones, told her that he loved her. Truly, absolutely and entirely, and if she dared die on him from something as feeble as a fall off a building he would never forgive her. She was a cat goddamnit! She was meant to land on her feet! Something in his voice, low and fierce, telling her how lame that would be after all she'd survived, must have got through the fog of pain in her skull. Must have lit that fire which only Alec could light. Must have pissed her off enough to want to live, just so she could smack that idiot upside the head.

She had a broken leg, one arm was broken, and the wrist of the other was fractured. She had four broken ribs of which one had punctured a lung. Not to mention the massive internal bleeding. She spent a week in the intensive care unit in the hospital, Alec by her bedside or quietly checking that all her blood samples were under wraps this time. She found out at the end of that week that Alec had donated four pints of his blood for her. Had demanded to be allowed to do it in fact.

Embarrassing hospital gown aside, with the sheet pulled up to her chest she almost felt like a little girl – for the first few days at least. She couldn't even turn over without moaning in pain the first night, and Alec's scowl only lessened as she learnt to control her whimpers. If he'd been the type, he would have fretted over her like a mother goose, feeling her forehead and offering her water. As it was, he only sat, chair pulled up as close to the bed as it would get, head leaning against hers on the cushion, hand tight on hers by her side.

She was confined to bed-rest for two weeks after her initial four surgeries, but still Alec was there. She was all he had now. Biggs, Sketchy, Cindy, Joshua, Mole, Asha, even Normal, all of them were gone and he'd be damned if he lost Max. He'd sent out the message to those left in Terminal City to evacuate, and head for Canada. Word had spread that Joshua had started a new transgenic sanctuary in the mountains after he had met up with Sam. Max's clone had been useful for something after all, and had been willing to help so long as her family were kept safe.

Max hadn't said anything about Alec's panicked confessional, but sometimes he caught her looking at him with a strange expression that he couldn't recognise. This was what made Alec sure she had heard him, and this was what made him start baiting her.

It started subtle. He kept it casual enough, hoping that she would just say something on her own. He knew better really. His quiet innuendoes went unnoticed or ignored, and most of the time he wasn't sure which. He let it drop after four days, but was resolute that once she was out of the hospital, they would be having that conversation.

Transgenics heal fast, but after two weeks Max still had an arm and a leg in casts, and some wrapping around her ribs. Alec had to 'rent' a car to get her back to her and Cindy's old apartment. She was surprised when he wheeled her in the door and she spotted his stuff mixed in with hers. She gave him a look and he shrugged. He didn't need to say anything really. It was closer to the hospital than his place, and Cindy was gone. It wasn't like anyone had been using her room. Plus it was cheaper for both of them and Max could hardly look after herself properly when she was still down an arm and a leg. She noticed that he'd brought his TV with him and was surprisingly grateful.

She did wonder how he would survive without his steam shower though.

For the first week they settled into a relatively easy routine. Alec cleared routes through the apartment so Max could wheel herself around (albeit with the expected one-armed difficulty: lucky it was a small apartment). He set up the bathroom so all he needed to do was lift her into the tub (always in a baggy black t-shirt, despite his suggestions otherwise) and she could do the rest. He had stacked some crates beside it for her stuff and attached a plank on the end of the tub for her to prop her leg up on. He tried to cook for them (though he mostly ordered take-out) and at the end of the night, when shark DNA finally subsided, helped lift her into her bed and pull the covers over her. Only then did he retreat to Cindy's old bed.

There was one element that Alec had not thought about however. He'd never had a cast, so was not prepared for Max's bitchiness to latch on to a new,  **constant** , topic.

"It's just so… damn… itchy!"

If she could have got her fist inside either cast, she would have. After two days of listening to her gripe and watching her scrape her nails under the casts, he appeared before her, hands behind his back and a triumphant smile on his face. She looked up at him irritably.

"What?" he pulled his hands from behind him with a flourish, and presented her with two sets of four chopsticks, taped together. There was a plastic fork head attached to one end of each. She glared at them mistrustfully.

"What the hell is that?" he held them out to her.

"Your very own scratching sticks. Should fit down the inside of your casts." She looked from Alec's face to the sticks, hesitated for about a quarter of a second, and grabbed them.

The sticks earned him almost a week of peace. They would sit together and watch any inane shows that were on, him happily lounging across the sofa, her contentedly scratching away. The peace ended during an Indiana Jones movie. Alec heard a crack and saw Max pull the stick from inside her leg cast. The tines of the fork had snapped off. There was one thing that Max was sure of in that moment. That if she didn't take the casts off she was going to kill herself. Or maybe Alec. Though probably both.

"That's it!" she threw the chopstick across the room and started looking for anything to cut her cast off with. She made a grab for one of the screwdrivers she used on her bike, but Alec spotted her and got to it first. He held it away from her.

"Look, you've just got to concentrate on something else, take your mind off the casts."

"Easy for you to say," she huffed, "there's nowhere else for my mind to go. It's stuck in these  **stupid** things!" She was too busy digging in the cast with the other stick, and missed Alec's sly smirk. He switched the TV off and crept up behind her. He gently pulled her hair behind her neck. She swatted at his hand impatiently.

"I can barely begin to describe how low my tolerance is for your particular brand of bullshit right now."

"Sshh," he murmured, "I'm doin' you a favour here." He ran a hand up the length of her neck, back down and over her shoulder. She twitched at first, then felt herself tremble.

"What kind of favour?" her voice couldn't have sounded more suspicious.

"I'm distracting you," he clasped his hand over her shoulder and massaged the muscle there gently. Max stifled a groan. Just.

"Okay," she sounded choked, "I can live with that."

"It's working isn't it?" she tried to twist and look up at him, but his hands on her neck stopped her. She nodded silently. "Good."

His hands kneaded her shoulders and neck, and Max let her head drop forward. Alec was right that it was taking her mind off her casts, so she decided to ignore what she would usually class as gratuitous groping. All she was aware of were his hands on her skin. How soft his palms felt next to the rougher texture of the ball of his hand and his calloused fingers.

He pushed his thumbs into her barcode and rubbed them there in slow circles. Max's eyes snapped open and she stopped her sharp inhalation before it came. Her skin felt like it had caught fire. One hand stayed on her barcode, the other swept along her shoulder. She felt his fingers slide under the sting strap of her vest, and gently push it to the side, over the curve of her shoulder. She couldn't stop the shiver that ran down her spine then. She hadn't realised how long it had been since she had felt something so simple, so relaxing and so undeniably erotic.

She shook herself, shook his hands off.

"Okay," she announced, voice a little too loud, "itchiness forgotten. Thanks a bunch." She could practically feel Alec's frown. Her neck was still burning. He rested his chin on the top of her head and she froze.

"You okay Maxie?" no way was Alec going to let her get out of this. He felt her shudder, saw the flush which had risen in her cheeks as he touched her. Now he knew her uncertainty would start to mix with anger. And he was happy to push until it did.

"Fine," she ground out, "that's enough. Don't need any more," She scrabbled for her vest strap, but he caught her hand, "get off." He was listening for the hint of threat in her voice, but couldn't detect any. He squeezed her fingers between his and ran his other hand back over her barcode. She squirmed. Felt uncomfortable at the comfort his hand gave.

"What's your problem?" he kept his tone neutral. Controlled his features. Knew it would annoy her. Did it anyway.

"Other than the broken bones," the irritation was colouring her speech now, and Alec was masochistically glad, "I don't have a problem. What's your problem? Not got laid enough because of poor crippled Max?" he released her and scowled, "no need to use me to try and get your rocks off." She laughed, and the sound of it was harsh in small room. "Don't let me stop you Alec, I don't need you here. I can get other help if I'm desperate." He stepped away from her. He'd forgotten what a bitch she could actually be.

"Who's the one who has been here the whole time, the one who has looked after you through all of this? Everyone else  **left** us Maxie. I gave you almost half my blood for god's sake." Alec would have impressed with himself that he hadn't yelled if he wasn't so agitated.

"Yeah. Great," she murmured, "so now I have Zack's heart in my chest, Ben's blood on my hands, and yours in my veins. I never asked for your help Alec!"

"But look, I gave it to you anyway," he hopped over the couch so he stood in front of her, "I'm  **here**  anyway, so do us both a favour and cut out the bitchiness."

"I…"

"Max, I'm here because I want to be, and whether you admit it or not, you want me here too," he shook his head and crouched in front of her, "there's nothing wrong with needing other people. I'm not Ben, and I'm not Zack. I'm not your brother." They both froze. She wouldn't look at him.

"No," she whispered.

"I'm not your brother," he repeated. He paused. Licked his suddenly dry lips, "so I guess we both know why I'm still here."

"Don't," her voice was low, and she still wouldn't look at him, "please? Not now." He shook his head again. Ran a hand through his hair. His hand paused briefly on the back of his neck, over his barcode, before he reached out and laid it on Max's knee.

"Then when? Never?" she looked at him now, and her eyes were sparkling. "I know you heard me that day." The softness to his tone, it nearly broke her. He saw it in her eyes. She took a steadying breath, before turning fully toward him. She took his hand in hers and ran her fingers idly over his knuckles.

"While I'm emotionally stunted enough to find it difficult to say it, I'm not that emotionally stunted that I don't recognise it's there." A half smile flitted across Alec's face.

He could wait. They both knew he would.

The two of them were the only ones left. The last of the transgenic presence in Seattle. But they were together, so Alec didn't mind.

After all, good things come to those who wait.  
  
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Fic Fin.


	19. Name

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Another from my 'Alphabet Challenge', which originated from nickeldime17's Max/Alec drabble challenge 'From A to Z' on Fanfiction.net.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Title: N is for Name

She arched as his mouth was on her neck. He kissed her throat, ran his tongue along her jaw-line, moaned beside her ear.

"Maxie…" she shivered.

"Don't call me that."

Her eyes were heavy, almost drugged. She opened them with difficulty when he pulled away from her. His expression looked like she'd slapped him.

"What?" she cocked her head at his frown.

"I don't want you to call me that."

She didn't. From Logan's lips the name sounded wrong. Ever since they'd got the cure he'd been getting steadily more comfortable,  _too_  comfortable, with her. If he knew the thoughts that came to mind from that name, even overlooking the fact that he had  _moaned_  it, she wasn't sure how comfortable he'd feel.

A night, pre-cure. Hot mouths, sticky limbs. His breath between her legs making her whimper. Her taste on his lips making her groan. Her fingers in his hair, her nails on his back, his hands on her chest. The moment as they rushed toward it, all the more expectant, all the more frantic. Her legs tightening around his waist at Alec's strangled cry.

"Maxie!"

She could deal with most of what was thrown at her, but she drew the line at Logan calling her by that name.  
  
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Fic Fin.


	20. Open

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Another from my 'Alphabet Challenge', which originated from nickeldime17's Max/Alec drabble challenge 'From A to Z' on Fanfiction.net.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Title: O is for Open

She had thought about it for days. Sat for hours wondering and trying to remember. But she couldn't pinpoint it.

Max had no idea when or why Alec had started holding doors open for her, and it was frustrating her that she had only just noticed.

At first she had tried to just pass it off as a sign of deference to a higher ranking officer, but she couldn't convince herself. Not after he openly called her a bitch in front of everyone in command. Respect for chain of command and Alec didn't go hand in hand. Freedom had taken care of that particular Manticore trait.

Next, Max tried to convince herself that maybe he had just developed some manners. She saw him hold the door for Gem that one time after all. But then, thinking about it, Gem had Eve on one arm, and a bag full of baby formula on the other. If he hadn't held the door for her, everyone (including Gem) would probably have tried to kick his ass. Fear and manners are not the same thing. So manners were discounted.

Of all people, all the smart, empathic, genetically-engineered super soldiers she knew, it was Sketchy who finally shed some light on her dilemma. They were all heading to Crash from Jam Pony. At the door, O.C. and Sketchy went ahead, but Alec stopped and held the door for her. Again. He let her pass him without a word and Max nodded a curt thanks. She joined her friends at a table, and Alec headed straight for the bar.

"What's up sugah?" Cindy's words jolted Max back into herself. She realised she had been frowning at Alec's back and schooled her features back to neutral.

"Nothin'," she muttered, "I'm jus' thinkin'."

"About?" Max wasn't sure if she should say anything. She was scared her friends would think she had finally gone completely paranoid. But then she kind of had… Ah, screw it.

"Alec," she admitted, ignoring Sketchy's smirk, "he holds doors open for me. I've jus' noticed. It's weird cuz he doesn't do it for anyone else." At this Sketchy laughed openly. "What?" she scowled.

"Took you long enough. He's been doin' it for months!" Max's scowl morphed into full-on glare.

"You knew?"

"The one trick I actually taught him," he almost looked smug, "lady thinks you're being a gent, when actually you're just scammin' on her behind."

She knew Alec, spent a not small portion of her time with him. And hadn't realised the simplest option was always going to be the right one. Manticore had taught her Occam's razor. She was furious with herself. So took it out on Sketchy and popped him round the head with a scowl.

It was his fault for opening the damn door in the first place.  
  
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Fic Fin.


	21. Promise

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Another from my 'Alphabet Challenge', which originated from nickeldime17's Max/Alec drabble challenge 'From A to Z' on Fanfiction.net.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Title: P is for Promise

The bike rumbled between her thighs as she sped toward the Space Needle. The rain pelted against her face. She was driving so fast that every drop hurt when it hit her skin. But she could barely feel them. She practically drifted around the corner, leaning deep into the turn in her haste. Her reflexes were even quicker than her Ninja's, but she was still thankful that the road was empty of other traffic.

He had to be there. He wouldn't just cut and run without telling her. Not without telling Joshua at least. Or Sketchy or Mole. But none of them knew where he was and he wasn't answering his phone, so he had to be there.  **Any**  alternative was unthinkable. That gnawing knot of fear began to develop again when she let her mind wander to the other alternatives so she forced herself to focus purely on her driving.

Her tires squealed as she skidded to a stop in front of the Space Needle. She looked up, but couldn't see anyone from where she was stood. She raced to the top, cursing Alec and worrying over him the entire way. When she finally climbed out on the roof, she spotted him sitting on the edge.

"Alec! You ass. I've been calling you for the last two hours," he stood and turned away from her.

"Sorry to inconvenience you princess," he kept his voice low, but she heard him.

"Hey!" she snapped, grabbing his bicep. He flung her hand off before she could get a grip.

"Max," it was a warning growl, but she ignored it and reached for his shoulder.

"What…"

"Goddamnit Max!" he backed away from her and she held up her hands to placate him.

"What's your issue?" Okay, so maybe the words weren't exactly matching the gesture, but she was irritated. Half of her was glad he was okay after how terrified she had been, but the other half was annoyed at him and wanted answers. Seriously, the boy could be such a drama queen. He sighed and she could almost see the shutters coming down behind his eyes as his guard went up.

"I'm outta here," his expression was carefully bland as he looked at her. "Tonight. I'm leaving Seattle." Max eyes widened and he looked away from her.

"What? Why?" she tried to keep her tone low, but all her fears were swirling around in her head and she was finding it hard to concentrate.

"I'm done. I've had enough," she broke then. She had to.

"No! You don't get to do that! Just give and take friendship whenever you want," she paused and looked at him. Really looked at him. His hunched shoulders and wet hair plastered to his head. His downcast eyes and the rain dripping steadily from his leather jacket. The droplets washing the flat planes of his clenched jaw and curving over the taut expression of his set mouth. "You don't get to do that to me," her voice broke on the last word and he finally lifted his head.

"Maybe this isn't about you," the rain was pounding down on them. On their heads, bodies, the ground around them. But – lucky her – Manticore's enhanced hearing meant she didn't miss a word. Her breath caught, even as she told herself that she shouldn't have been so arrogant to assume anything in the first place.

"Right," it was barely a word, and more like an exhalation. All of her built up anger and fear and tension rushing out in that one word. She repeated it again, louder. More force, more bitterness crept in. "Right. It's about  **you**. How hard  **you** have everything. It's about  **you** quitting on us." He looked away from her again and stepped back. He ran a hand through soaked hair in frustration.

"I don't know why I've even stayed here as long as I have," he snapped. Max could almost taste the sour sting of rejection ebbing in to join the bitterness. "I was trained for solo ops, the group thing goes completely against my purpose."

"Your purpose?" she asked incredulously, "since when do any of us let Manticore dictate our purpose any more?" She closed the space between them and grabbed his arm, he didn't throw her off this time and she forced him to face her. She thought her fingers were going to burn through her gloves. Brand him with her anger. "We're making our own purpose now Alec. That's the point. Things in T.C. look positively promising and full of hope next to Manticore. That's why everyone stayed," she took a breath, steadied herself for what she had to say next, "that's why we  **need** you to stay with us. We can't do this without you. You say you were trained for solo ops, fine. But then explain to me why you have more friends in T.C. than anyone else we know? Why you can name every resident of those damn decaying streets? That's more than just training. Hell, for solo ops, you're one of the most personable and sociable people I've ever met. I admire that about you Alec, and we need you if T.C. is going to succeed. You're not solo ops anymore. You haven't been for a long time. You're just scared." He glared at her, but it lacked the usual force.

"How do you do that? Pretend like none of it ever happened. Deny what they built you for?" she resisted the urge to hit him.

"Just because they built us, doesn't mean they can make us be anything we don't want to be. We're genetically enhanced humans Alec, not robots. Even with all the brainwashing techniques in the world we still have free will." he laughed, but there was no mirth in it.

"Easy for you to say. You ran. You didn't get the worst of it." Max let out a frustrated sigh and shook her head.

"Are we really not past that already?" he looked at her feet, shame colouring his cheeks, "yeah, me and mine ran, and you tried to kill me and Logan. Can we call it even?" he closed his eyes and she saw a muscle in his jaw jump when he gritted his teeth. Water had pooled at the base of his throat, soaking the neck of his t-shirt. She wanted to grab it and shake him. Help him to understand that she didn't care about any of that any more. They were so far past that. It had been two years, and two years was a long time.

"Logan," he muttered. The rain was coming down so hard it was almost deafening on the metal around them. He looked up at her suddenly, and grabbed her arm. "I lied," the intense look in his eyes and the abrupt admission made Max want to take a step back from him, but he held her arm too tightly.

"What?"

"I lied. Before. This is all totally about you," he tugged her to him and she found her hand fisted in the neck of his shirt after all. Only she wasn't shaking him, he was kissing her, and she was kissing him back. Lips and teeth and tongue colliding. His hand was on the side of her face, angling her head back as his fingers tangled in wet strands of hair. He kissed her until she felt like she couldn't breathe, like she was going to drown in the rain on the Space Needle in his arms. She couldn't break it. She was scared he would retreat into himself if he thought she was rejecting him. He had to break the kiss. Finally, suddenly, he pushed her away and held her at arms length.

She looked at his hooded eyes. He got it now. She could see it. He understood what she had been trying to tell him: That life had suddenly never felt so full of promise.  
  
\------  
  
Fic Fin.


	22. Quarantine

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Another from my 'Alphabet Challenge', which originated from nickeldime17's Max/Alec drabble challenge 'From A to Z' on Fanfiction.net.
> 
> An extended version of this chapter is currently a WIP on my Fanfiction.net profile (I only upload completed works to this one).

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Title: Q is for Quarantine

Max blinked as the sunlight assaulted her eyes. She pushed the heavy steel shutter all the way back against the wall, and looked out of the third floor window. The grounds of the old, eighteenth-century manor were undisturbed, the countryside around them quiet. The heavy chains and padlocks were still in place on the imposing, wrought iron gate, set in twenty foot, red-brick walls. She scanned the gardens beneath her, searching for the slightest movement, the faintest trace that anyone had made it over the walls in the night. She saw nothing.

She left her bedroom and crossed the hall into the large bathroom. She lifted the steel cross-bar from the shutters and pulled them open. Sunlight streamed into the room and she repeated her scans of the gardens. Seeing nothing amiss she left the bathroom and continued throughout the house, purposefully missing out the bedroom at the end of the hall. In each room she repeated the same process. She opened the shutters, scanned the grounds and listened for any noises from the gardens. At the front door she grabbed the shotgun hanging off the hat-stand and slung it over her shoulder.

She opened the door carefully and listened again. Hearing nothing but the occasional bird's tweet, she strode down the gravel drive to the gate and checked the padlocks were still secure. Finally satisfied everything was safe, she headed back into the house. She entered the kitchen and laid the shotgun on the counter. She looked down on it sadly. It was Mole's gun. A parting gift from the transhuman when he had realised what was happening. What he was about to turn into. Max's abhorrence of guns had lasted less than a week. After that, she had learned what a necessary evil they could be. If Mole were around he'd be proud of her trigger finger. That is, if Mole was even alive. It had been ten years since she'd left Seattle.

She hadn't seen another living soul, other than the one slumbering upstairs and the livestock in the manor grounds, since she had barricaded them in over six years ago. Self-imposed quarantine, isolation, whatever. She could cope with the loneliness as long as they were safe.

She scrapped together a breakfast of scrambled eggs and dished it out onto two plates. She put them on a tray with two glasses of milk and some cutlery, then carried the lot up the stairs. She paused at the closed bedroom door to balance the tray on her hip as she knocked. She pushed it open without waiting for a response and headed toward the bed in the darkened room.

"Alec? You hungry?" a tousled blonde head peered from under the covers.

"Eggs?" he asked, voice husky with sleep. Max nodded and he sat up. "I can be hungry for eggs."

"I figured," she smiled and placed the tray on his legs. She crossed to the vacant side of the bed and hopped up beside him, grabbing her own plate and cutlery. He started to demolish his eggs.

"I'm thinking of doing a supply run in the next couple of days," Max began, "I think there's an old factory about a five hour drive from here that used to make solar panels. It would make things a heck of a lot easier around here. Cut down on searches for generator fuel for a start." She glanced at his already empty plate and stifled a laugh. "You think you'll be alright by yourself for a day?"

"I'm always alright," she started at the phrase. Looking down on him, at that oh-so-familiar way he scratched the back of his neck, before stretching out his arms and yawning, Max felt her eyes fill with tears. He looked over at her and his expressive brown eyes lit up with concern.

"Mom? Are you okay?"

For an instant, Max felt suddenly and overwhelmingly lonely. Lonely and nostalgic. She missed her old life, her friends. She missed Alec, the other Alec that the nine year old beside her was named for, so much that it ached. For the, perhaps millionth time, she listed expletives in her head at the familiars for doing this to her. For doing it to everyone. For unleashing the damn pathogen that had turned everyone into mindless, psychopathic monsters.

The last news bulletin she had caught before fleeing Seattle, had said that the pathogen mutated DNA. Specifically, it targeted junk DNA. In mutating the junk DNA, it mutated the person into something else. Something horrible, and something vicious. She had seen her friends transformed to monsters before her very eyes. Watched as Mole shot a snarling Dalton, just after Dalton had ripped out Sketchy's throat with his teeth. Her best guess was that she was immune, only because she had no junk DNA. She had no idea if she had passed that particular genetic quirk onto her son, but she had no urges to find out. There was no way in hell she was going to risk finding out if her son was immune or not, because there was no way she would ever expose him to any of the infected possibly lurking outside the manor's gates.

When she thought about those last days in Seattle, about Alec's terrified goodbye and his fierce kiss before he threw her in the back of Josh's van. When she thought about it all, she realised that Alec probably sensed she was pregnant before she did. He had been different with her since they slept together. At the time she thought he was just being weird, but now… he'd been so damn  **gentle**  with her. Had been acting so tenderly toward her those couple of weeks. He'd always been so keen to take on any and all of her duties. Not to mention that he was so fiercely protective of her that he had literally dragged her, kicking and screaming, out of T.C. and into the waiting van. Thinking about him always filled Max with shame and terror. Shame that she had ever allowed herself to leave without him, terror over what might have happened to him.

So she tried not to think about it. The only positive she could discern from the entire damned situation, was that at least the familiars had destroyed themselves as well. So much for their years of selective breeding, or the snake venom acting as a vaccine.

She blinked, trying to clear the tears and fog of emotion, which had descended so suddenly.

"I'm fine kiddo."

She knew that he was out there somewhere, whether he was dead, alive, mutated like the others or immune like her and his son. She knew Alec was out there. And she would find him. Eventually she would find him, and be able to tell her son what had happened to his father.  
  
\------  
  
Fic Fin.


	23. Rune

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Another from my 'Alphabet Challenge', which originated from nickeldime17's Max/Alec drabble challenge 'From A to Z' on Fanfiction.net.
> 
> So, basically, the premise of this is that quiet moments sometimes tell you more than you think.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Title: R is for Rune

His fingers danced across the markings on her wrist. She had always hated them, resented them for what they stood for. But as his fingers, his blessedly latex-free fingers, flitted over the marked skin, she thought that maybe she didn't hate them after all.

Max dragged her eyes away from Asha and Logan laughing together in the corner of Crash and looked up into Alec's face. His gentle touch on her wrist matching the gentleness, the concern in his eyes.

"You alright?" she smiled at him and stole another glance at Logan. Smiling, laughing Logan. Happy over there in his corner. Without her. Alec's hand was still over her runes, over yet another mark on her skin that separated her from Logan. Over another part of her skin that Logan couldn't touch. Over another part of her that Logan was fascinated by, but separately to her, as if they weren't a part of her. She realised that Alec wouldn't have even considered the runes when he reached out to comfort her. Because he was reaching out to her. Only her. His friend. Runes or not.

So maybe, in those moments, just maybe she didn't hate them. Because in that unselfconscious touch, Alec reminded her that there was more to her than runes and a barcode. He wasn't reaching out to her because of those. He was reaching out to her because he was Alec, and she was Max, and that was how things were.

Yeah, in those moments, she didn't hate them. Because she didn't hate the hand on her wrist, or the man attached to it.  
  
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Fic Fin.


	24. Sunday

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Another from my 'Alphabet Challenge', which originated from nickeldime17's Max/Alec drabble challenge 'From A to Z' on Fanfiction.net.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Title: S is for Sunday

Alec had tried church once, he went on a Sunday, and been told by a pouting teenage girl that Sunday was a day of rest. He had ignored her flirting, and instead fixed on that idea. Alec would never call himself religious, but from then on Sunday was his self-claimed holiday from responsibility. It was his day of rest.

Max showed up on a Sunday. She'd been gone for almost eight years, in parts unknown, with not so much as a postcard. And on that Sunday she just showed up on his doorstep. The open cell phone in his hand dropped to the floor with a clunk and he was faintly aware of Sketchy's voice still talking as she smiled at him.

"Hey, Alec," his eyes were wide and shocked. A part of him wanted to hug her, a part of him wanted to kiss her, and another part of him wanted to slam the door in her face. Instead he settled on frowning at her.

"Max?" he hadn't meant for his voice to waver when he said her name.

"Yeah," her eyes flitted away from his face nervously, "it's been a while huh? You look good." Her eyes ran up and down his body, and Alec couldn't help wonder what she was looking for in that searching gaze. "Different. But good." He blinked at her dumbly.

He knew he looked different. Almost eight years of working out and growing up does that to a guy. As he looked her over he realised she looked different too. Her hair was still long, it looked like it hadn't been cut for a while actually, but it was lighter. She'd had highlights or something. She was a little less lean too, as if she had got softer with age. Less sinew and sharp angles. She was still a babe though, so he decided that it suited her. It almost made her less intimidating. Almost. He cleared his throat.

"I guess I could say the same to you," he searched her dark eyes, unsure and awkward where he once would have been cocky and confident. The longer he stared, the more uncomfortable he felt. It was like claustrophobia to her nearness. Even her smell, though it was different too, was so familiar it felt almost cloying. "Is that all you came here to say?" He could practically see her bite back her retort. At least some things never changed. Her expression darkened.

"Would you prefer that?" He almost snorted. She knew damn well that what he preferred didn't make a difference to what she did. She had made that perfectly clear all those years ago when she disappeared.

"Are you back?" the side of him that had wanted to slam the door in her face had gained some ground, "Or is this just a flying visit? Y'know, a 'hi there… best friend I ditched without saying a word, see you again in another eight years' kinda thing?" She only smiled at him. She'd obviously prepared herself for this reaction. Bitch.

"Do you really think I'd do that?" he glared at her, and pushed back the growl he could feel growing low in his throat.

"What do you expect me to think?" he ground out, "We killed White, we stopped his cronies. And you slept with me. Was that unexpected? Yeah. The next morning you just cut and ran. You left the  **state**. Also pretty damn unexpected. I mean, that's not just bruising a guy's ego, that's damn near soul destroying! So do I think you'd do that? I wouldn't put anything past you."

"It was meant to be a goodbye."

"Well you really should have explained that part, shouldn't you?"

"You would have tried to stop me."

Okay, so she had him there.

"Well you could have left a note, or called me. Damn-it, Max, even a text would have been better than eight years of nothing."

"I know," she said quietly. He felt his door-slamming side retreat slightly at her sad eyes. He wanted to step out and comfort her, hold her, just touch her at all. Confirm she was there. Instead he stepped back from the doorway and gestured inside.

"Let's at least argue indoors," he offered. She bit her lip and glanced behind her. He looked over her shoulder. There was a car at the curb. He hadn't noticed it, but then it wasn't idling so he didn't know why he would have. "No one around here is dumb enough to try and boost your ride outside my house, if that's what you're worried about." His gaze flicked from the car to her face, but he didn't hear her stuttered response when he noticed a small face peering through the window back at him. The little girl looked away quickly when she realised she had been caught.

"I can't," at least he thought that was what Max said. He stepped to the side of her, but still didn't step outside. Enhanced vision was locked on the little blonde head. He tore himself away, staring instead at Max.

"How old is that kid, Max?" she wouldn't look him in the eye, and he felt his chest tighten, "how  **old**?"

"Seven," his jaw tightened as his gaze zoomed in on the occupant of the car again. The shape of her face was undoubtedly her mother's, as were the full lips. But the hair was that kind of sandy blonde that would obviously darken as she got older. The eyes… He forced himself to take a breath before he asked his next question.

"What colour are her eyes?" Max didn't miss a beat this time.

"Green," not since the day Max had left, had Alec's world inverted itself so suddenly. He grabbed hold of the doorframe to steady himself.

Trust her to be the one who screwed up his self-proclaimed holiday. Trust her to be the one to shove responsibility on him, whether she realised she was doing it or not.

So much for Sunday being a day of rest.  
  
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Fic Fin.


	25. Touch

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Another from my 'Alphabet Challenge', which originated from nickeldime17's Max/Alec drabble challenge 'From A to Z' on Fanfiction.net.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Title: T is for Touch

At first, Alec thought that the one thing he had over Logan was the power of touch. The reason Logan and Max couldn't be together, just conveniently became the reason Alec could be with her.

He'd always noticed the looks Logan gave him when he saw them touching, be it a casual brush of hands or her swiping at the back of his head. The looks were a mixture of things. Jealousy, distrust, but more often than not, Logan failed miserably to conceal the blame in his eyes. Alec knew that Logan would always find it unfair that he could touch Max, because he knew in Logan's eyes, it was Alec's fault that the former love birds couldn't touch.

Which Alec knew was ridiculous. He told himself it was unfair that Logan looked at him like that. Because he didn't suggest the virus to Renfro. He didn't design the damn thing. He didn't provide them with Logan's DNA and he didn't give Max the shot. He entered the apartment after she'd already infected Logan. Alec never let himself feel responsible, because he knew that even if he had told Max about it before she touched Logan that time, the virus would still be there and the pair still wouldn't be able to touch. Not his problem.

And, whether he'd admit it aloud or not, Alec  **liked** that Logan couldn't touch Max.

And, as he had admitted several times, Alec lovedthat he  **could**  touch her.

He never tired of being able to sneak up behind her and trap her in a bear hug. He loved kissing her on the top of the head every time they said hello or goodbye to each other. Actually, he just loved kissing her. Whenever, wherever, however. He loved that he was allowed to kiss her. Not to mention the other benefits that came after kissing. He loved it when she cuddled up to him at night, on those rare times they both got to sleep at the same time, in their heap of crap apartment on the fold out sofa that had never once been folded in.

If Mole ever heard him say it, Alec knew he'd rag him, but the thing Alec appreciated the most was the ability to be able to just walk with her, hand in hand, to wherever they were headed. He knew it was childish, but at times, when heads turned to watch her walk by, he felt like a kid showing off that he had the best toy.

In a way, or maybe many, Alec understood why Logan might try to lay blame on him. He knew he'd probably go a little crazy if one day, he couldn't touch Max anymore. Couldn't sling his arm over her shoulder in that way she pretended to hate when they both knew she didn't.

Whether she would ever dare admit it, Alec knew she'd probably go crazy if she lost her part-time, no longer fake boyfriend, part-time punching bag.

A part of him had naively thought that the hitting might stop once they were item, and though it was notably softer than before - 90% of the time anyway – he had realised that it was so much a part of their relationship, it would just be weird if it disappeared overnight. It was hard-wired in the both of them. He was hard-wired to taunt and annoy, she was hard-wired to get exasperated and hit him.

The day he brought home the stray cat and her two kittens that he had found living in a turned over trash can in a particularly derelict section of Terminal City, was the day he realised that he had more over Logan than mere touch. The smile on Max's face when she entered the apartment and heard the tiny meowing was worth a hundred bear hugs. When she saw the mother cat casually cleaning her paws on Alec's lap as the boy kitten tried to climb inside Alec's trouser leg, Max actually squealed.

Alec had never felt prouder of himself.

Max kissed him, and settled beside him on their couch/bed. He nudged her and pointed to a blue cushion on the floor. He watched her expression soften further when she notice the tiny brown head peeking out from beneath it, big chocolate eyes blinking up at them.

"I've only named her so far," he told her. Max looked at him, lips curved upwards.

"Whatcha name her?" she asked. Alec grinned.

"Maxie," he replied. Max arched an eyebrow at him.

"Dare I ask?" Alec picked up a piece of string from beside him and waggled it. Instantly, Maxie bounced toward them, scrabbling up the arm of the sofa with tiny claws.

"She took the longest to coax out," he explained. He held up a marked hand. "scratched me a bit too. But started purring soon as I got her here." He patted the bed and Max laughed. She smacked his arm and gathered little Maxie into her arms. Sure enough, the kitten started purring instantly, miniscule rumbles sending tremors through her tiny body.

Max set the kitten down and watched it leap from her legs to Alec's, then back again. She leant her head against Alec's shoulder and he snaked an arm around her.

He watched as the kitten clambered over his mother's feet. He turned in tiny circles a couple of times before finally settling between her legs. His little tail swayed back and forth, swishing in Maxie kitten's face, occasionally hitting her nose. Alec grinned as the cat opened one eye lazily to look at her babies, then closed it again when Maxie kitten swiped a tiny paw at the back of her brother's head. Alec's grin grew wider as the kitten bore the blow with remarkable cheer, leaping to its feet and wandering up to lick his sister's face.

"I guess this is our family then," Max whispered. Alec looked away from the boy kitten he had just titled Alec Junior. He noted Max's content expression, and tested the words.

"Our family."

Alec knew then, even without the virus, even if Logan and Max could touch, they would never have this. He had a sneaking suspicion that Logan was a dog person.

Alec felt the sudden urge to purr.  
  
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Fic Fin.


	26. Umbrella

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Another from my 'Alphabet Challenge', which originated from nickeldime17's Max/Alec drabble challenge 'From A to Z' on Fanfiction.net.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Title: U is for Umbrella

Animals go away to die.

Max heard that once. Animals go away to be on their own when they know they are going to die. She knew she wasn't an animal. Despite what people tried to tell her. She didn't think transgenics were animals, even the 'nomlies. They were people, just as human and humane as any other John or Jane Doe on the street.

Maybe the others still hadn't been out of Manticore long enough to realise that yet.

Which was why she was wandering the streets of T.C. in one of Seattle's, hundred-a-month, rainstorms.

The attack had been unexpected. Maybe the ordinaries had finally just got sick of their government's truce with the 'freaks' inside T.C., but whatever had started it, they had acted more like animals than any of Max's people. They had smashed their way through an unprotected section of the barricade before anyone at Command Central had realised what was going on, and grabbed the first 'freak' they saw.

She heard footsteps padding up behind her. Max glanced around to see Gem hurrying over, sheltered under an umbrella. She had a second, unopened one in her other hand, and held it out when she reached Max's side. Max took it gratefully and opened it, ducking out of the freezing rain.

"No sign of him, we called Logan, he didn't go to Sandeman's house. He's not at his apartment, or Jam Pony, or Crash. We've got people in the sewers. We even sent a scout to the old Manticore site. They said they'd call when they've searched the remains."

"Make sure they check the basements if they can still get in there," replied Max automatically. She didn't think he'd have gone there, but he'd spent so much of his life there, who knew? And the basement was the safe place, away from guards, where they'd spent a lot of their alone time together.

"Already have," Gem assured her. She paused at Max's side, and Max could sense her hesitance.

"Go Gem, I've got this street covered," she felt a gloved hand rest on her wet arm.

"We'll find him," Max allowed a small smile of thanks at Gem's gesture.

"I know," … even though she didn't. Gem nodded and hurried away, back in the direction she came from.

The umbrella provided a little relief from the rain, but it wasn't enough. She was already soaked through and biting back the shivers. It was too little, too late, like everything that day. She tried to focus, listening for even the slightest noise in the rundown office building ahead of her. Reaching out for the tiniest scent of him. She saw a shadow move ahead of her across the entrance to a small courtyard. They had cleared out the Ordinaries, hurting them a whole lot less than everyone wanted to. She crossed to the shadow carefully, aware that there was a possibility, albeit a small one, that there were still some of the amped up Ordinaries in T.C.

She tried to bite back the hatred she felt for them right then. The hatred for them and for the damn guns they had brought with them, like they were hunting game.

Animals.

A head poked out the entrance and waved her toward them. She couldn't make out who it was, but the hand signals were Manticore. So she ran.

It was Bullet. He pointed inside the courtyard silently, shaking his head. Max felt her stomach knot with fear as she crossed through the gate.

The courtyard was relatively small, and as rundown as everywhere else in T.C., but there were a couple of withered trees still standing. Silent, decaying sentinels either side of an arched doorway. Silent decaying sentinels over a silent, shivering body.

Alec's head was in his hands as he sat on the wet concrete steps, and she hurried over to him. She held the umbrella over him, though she wasn't sure why. He was soaked to the skin already. He noticed the respite from the rain and raised his head slowly. His eyes were bloodshot, lips tinged purple with cold. The scratch on his cheek where the bullet had grazed him had been washed clean in the rain. She realised he must have been sitting there for a while. Max touched his arm gently and her eyes flicked anxiously to the door behind him.

"Did you find him?" she spoke normally, but her voice seemed as loud as a gunshot in the small space. Alec shut his eyes, face tight as he fought for composure. She dropped to her knees and laid a hand on his cheek. He grasped it with his own. Without opening his eyes, he pulled her hand away and used it to point to his left.

Joshua lay under the bigger of the two trees. His big body seemed impossibly small curled up in the protruding roots. Her breath caught in her throat. Alec's hand on hers tightened even as her other hand relaxed, and the umbrella drifted off, caught in the wind, forgotten.  
  
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Fic Fin.


	27. Vacation

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Another from my 'Alphabet Challenge', which originated from nickeldime17's Max/Alec drabble challenge 'From A to Z' on Fanfiction.net.
> 
> Tried to write a literal 100 word drabble this time.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Title: V is for Vacation

It was only an hour of a – more often than not – drizzly Tuesday, but it was the best that their hectic lives could afford them. It was usually an hour in a fleabag motel, but neither of them claimed to be romantics. It was only an hour, but to them it could have been a minute, a day, or a year. It was their weekly vacation, and whether they chose to spend that hour in Alec's creaky bed, or in a fleabag motel, they were always in each other's arms, and that was all they needed.

Max lived for Tuesday.  
  
\------  
  
Fic Fin.


	28. Wager

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Another from my 'Alphabet Challenge', which originated from nickeldime17's Max/Alec drabble challenge 'From A to Z' on Fanfiction.net.
> 
> Concept basis for this: A time before names. A time before fear. Maybe AU in a way, 'cuz I like to think that they all met when they were super little, but can't remember it. Maybe kid memory, maybe psy-ops to blame. Or something. Maybe I was feeling a little bit Christmassy.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Title: W is for Wager

Dark eyes blinked behind the window. The bars obscured their view. They were wet, but no tears fell from them. Hazel and blue eyes flanked her, one at either shoulder as the other children slept in the beds lining the room. One set peered out with distrust, the other with undisguised curiosity.

Four year old fingers, still chubby with puppy fat, locked together. To anyone watching, the gesture would have held a surreal, clumsy grace, unnatural in any normal child.

But then, they weren't normal children.

"What is it?" the whisper was quiet with awe and she squeezed his hand. She looked at him, all shining hazel eyes and flushed cheeks, and she shrugged.

"Don't know," her eyes drifted back to the white specks floating down outside the barred window.

"Snow," muttered blue eyes. They both turned to him expectantly. "It is wet like rain but colder. And you can make shapes and pack it together to build things with it. Like solid rain." The blonde scowled in a way that anyone who wasn't four years old would have found adorable. "Bad for you. Make you cold."

"I think it sounds fun," hazel eyes were even wider as he turned to look at the two four year olds beside him. "You think we'll ever get to go play in that?"

"No," blue eyes looked away, back out of the window. His companions missed the longing in them. A tiny, dark skinned hand lifted to grasp one of the bars. Neither boy missed her whisper.

"I bet we will," the grip on her other hand tightened, "I'm sure of it."

They were quiet as they climbed back into the beds beside their twins.  
  
\------  
  
Fic Fin.


	29. Xerox

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Another from my 'Alphabet Challenge', which originated from nickeldime17's Max/Alec drabble challenge 'From A to Z' on Fanfiction.net.
> 
> Basis of this was that I wanted to try writing Max as the initiator.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Title: X is for Xerox

"Can you believe this boo?"

"I can believe that he's loving the power."

"Mmhhmm."

The two girls exchanged a glance. They had almost identical expressions and body language. Cocked eyebrows, hands on hips. Both sets of eyes were directed at the man at the desk of Jam Pony doling out parcels. One set of eyes was slightly narrower than the other, though whether it was in amusement or annoyance was questionable.

"Normal must have lost his mind," stated Cindy. Max rolled her eyes.

"Come on, who other than his Golden Boy could he trust to watch the degenerates and reprobates while he's off with the dreaded man-flu?"

"Good point," Cindy paused and switched her weight to her other hip, "albeit wrong in so many ways." Max smirked.

"Yo, Sketch, catch!" Alec's yell registered with the lanky bike messenger just in time, and Sketchy caught the package flung at him seconds before it would have connected with his face. He gave Alec a dopey thumbs up and started toward the exit.

"He's taken to it pretty well," commented Cindy, crossing her arms. Max shrugged off the almost compliment.

"It's the military in him. Probably doesn't even realise that he's doin' it that way either," then, because she thought she almost felt something, maybe, just a tiny little bit, like pride, "the idiot." Almost as if he had heard her, Alec glanced at the two women.

"Two hot runs for two hot ladies," he quipped, throwing packages over the desk to them. Max was thankful for her genetically honed reflexes as she caught them.

"Can't," she replied automatically, giving Cindy a significant look "I'm out of sign off sheets."

"And there's no spares in the tray." Cindy supplied. Alec rolled his eyes at them and grabbed a sheet from a stack beside him.

"Lucky there's a master copy then," he flapped the sheet of paper at them and pushed through the door into Normal's office. Cindy tutted.

"That boy is one package away from a bip, bip, bip." Max nodded in agreement.

"This evil must be stopped," she looked sideways at her best friend, "guess I'll go lay some smackdown on the fool."

"Feel free sugah,"

Max pushed her way through the barrier behind the counter, surveying Alec's regimental piles of parcels. It was tidier back there than when Normal was working. She shuddered and shoved through the door into the office.

He glanced over his shoulder at her. Max heard the beep of the copier as he Xeroxed the pages she'd seen him pick up from behind the desk.

"What's up, Max?"

"What's up? How 'bout you tryin' out the bossman routine on me? That's pretty  _messed_  up," he turned to face her, resting his elbows on the copier, and grinned.

"Just doin' my job, Maxie."

"And enjoying it. A whole lot too much."

"Gotta get my perks somehow, and for some reason being on top in this place makes things funner." The banter was comfortable, familiar, but Max felt herself flushing. She had heard Alec being suggestive before, a hundred times in fact, but something in that phrase, and in the lazy way he was leaning against the copier and smirking at her, made her pulse quicken. She decided to attribute it to boredom, and mirrored his stance against the door behind her.

"You could at least ask nicely," she chastised. She even tried to frown at him, she really did, but his good mood was like a wave washing over her, and wouldn't allow it.

"I'm pretty sure I did."

"I said nicely, not lecherously," he grinned at that and she crossed the room, picking at papers on Normal's desk as she drew closer.

"You want me to ask you nicely to do my bidding?" She thumped him on the arm and told herself he deserved it.

"I want you to say please," she smirked.

"What?" he shrugged, "Okay then, please do my bidding."

"Only if you do mine," he started and looked at her, eyebrows raised in surprise. She was pretty sure it was boredom that made her do it, but told herself that she just wanted to wipe that expression off his face.

There was nothing tentative in it, no asking for permission or seeking entry. One moment there was air, the next there were lips and teeth and tongue. No submission, no domination, just a moment of tension fracturing.

He pushed her away and stared down at her, eyes burning, all intensity. His eyes scanned her face, searched it for the instant regret. Instead he got something he wasn't expecting. A cheeky smile. His expression softened, morphing into a similar smile.

"So…" he began. She stepped close to him again and placed a hand on the back of his neck.

"For once," she whispered, "could you just shut up?" His smile then was genuine as he leant back down to kiss her. Her arms wrapped around his neck and he ducked to grab her ass and lift her. Her legs went around his waist and he turned them, placing her on top of the copier.

He pushed her jacket back off her shoulders and leant to kiss down the column of her throat. Her fingers were in his hair when he reached her exposed collarbone.

"Hey! Alec!" They froze. Alec groaned in frustration and leant his head on the crook of her neck. "Golden Boy! Phone's ringing off the hook out here!" He inhaled sharply and stood. She smiled. Alec ran a hand through his already tousled hair.

"Soooo," he drawled. Max pushed off the copier and shrugged her denim jacket back on. She pulled Alec's head down and kissed him one last time. He felt her smile against his mouth when he shut his eyes. She released him and stepped around him to the door.

"Back to work."

"Right. Back to work," he agreed.

"Catch ya later," said Max, pulling the door open. He nodded at her and set to work flattening his hair. She winked

Neither of them left that room wondering where they now stood.

Neither of them had any questions about what was between them.

Neither of them dared to call it a relationship.

Neither of them thought they had damaged their friendship by doing it.

Both of them were sure it would happen again.

Alec hoped it would be soon.

... Max knew it would be.  
  
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Fic Fin.


	30. Yawn

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Another from my 'Alphabet Challenge', which originated from nickeldime17's Max/Alec drabble challenge 'From A to Z' on Fanfiction.net.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Title: Y is for Yawn

Alec stretched his arms above his head, and let his body slump lower in the old rocking chair. The sun was hot on his bare chest and the warmth was making him groggy. He yawned as he stretched, not bothering to cover his mouth. His eyes were closed, so he felt rather than saw someone step in the line of his sunlight.

"Now aren't you just the picture of activity?" he opened his eyes

"Is this what it feels like to be in retirement?" Max laughed. Around them, other transgenics were sunning themselves and enjoying the baking heat. Not that they had much variation of weather in their desert outpost, known as New Mexico.

Max straddled him and dipped her head to his. She kissed him softly and he smiled against her lips. He grasped the back of her neck and ran a finger over where he knew her barcode was. The chair rocked them gently to and fro.

"What's the matter, you miss all the danger?" she asked. He could feel her breath on his face, and he kissed her again.

"I don't miss any of it," he replied, utterly serious.

The ghost town they had taken over was rundown at best. The buildings were ramshackle and everything seemed to be constantly coated in dust. The most exciting part of Alec's week was organising the trip into Albuquerque for provisions. But the cult was gone, and the government knew they were there but had left them alone.

Boring as it could sometimes be, Alec had never been happier.  
  
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Fic Fin.


	31. Zipper

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The final piece from my 'Alphabet Challenge', which originated from nickeldime17's Max/Alec drabble challenge 'From A to Z' on Fanfiction.net.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Title: Z is for Zipper

They were drunk. Somehow they had drank enough pre-pulse whiskey (twelve bottles at their last count) to be drunk. Which was the only reason Alec could think of that Max would be lying next to him on the floor of his, pretty much empty, TC apartment, listening to bad rap music and trying to eat a sixteen inch pizza.

A worse for wear couch, old TV and surprisingly new stereo were the only items in the boxy room. It was one of three rooms, inter-joined and with matching peeling wallpaper, that Alec had claimed. It was only a block away from command central, so Alec thought it offered at least a little privacy.

They both knew that the pizza, combined with their transgenic metabolism, meant that they would probably be sober again in a half hour. They'd run out of whisky too. So, as Max had pointed out with only a small slur, there'd be no more topping up.

Alec stopped air drumming to the electronic beat and let his head flop to the side. Max looked over at the sound and grinned at him. He pushed himself up onto his side, cushioning his head on his arm.

"You know," he started, pleased with himself that at least  **he**  didn't slur after a few… make that several, drinks, "I don't think I've seen you smile at me like that in… well, maybe ever."

"Don't talk," she said, pressing a hand over his mouth, smile still firmly on her own, "you'll spoil the nice atmosphere we've made here." He poked his tongue against her palm and she crinkled her nose. She pulled her hand away, looked at it briefly, then wiped it on his cheek.

"Better uses for my mouth, right?" he retorted. She laughed.

"Perv," she tried to make it sound chastising, but the sound that came out was closer to a giggle. Alec drummed his fingers on the floor beside him. He grinned at Max again, with a gleam in his eye that she didn't quite trust even in her inebriated state. He reached over his head and grabbed one of the empty whisky bottles. He placed it in the space between them.

"Come on," he announced, "live crazy for a minute mama mutant. Play spin the bottle with me?" Max laughed again. She had told him about the game she had played once in high school a few weeks before, and he had been pestering her about it ever since. Daily.

"Maybe I need to re-explain that game," she said, pushing up on her elbows so she could lean towards him, "it doesn't work with only two people. Kinda defeats the point because really, that's just making out." Alec sat up and waggled his eyebrows suggestively. She swatted his arm and he grabbed her hand. "I'm not making out with you Alec." She said, and rolled her eyes. He placed her hand over the bottle.

"Nope," he agreed, "you're just playing a game." She tried to pull her hand away but he tightened his grip. "Maxie. This is a rare opportunity for both of us. We actually have alcohol as an excuse for doing something stupid and childish. Are you really going to pass that up?" Max sighed theatrically, but nodded.

"You're right," she said softly. Alec grinned and removed his hand, "it is childish." She swatted him around the head, earning a flinch and mock-hurt, puppy eyes.

"Why would you tell me about it and then refuse to play?" he whined, "That's like torment to your poor buddy Alec." He scratched the back of his head where she had hit it, then turned back to her. "Go on, live a little. 50/50 chance it won't even land on me." He narrowed his eyes. "I dare you." Max rolled her eyes, but he knew he'd scored a point there, because she reached for the bottle.

"If it lands anywhere else, I've earned my freedom, okay?" He grinned and nodded.

"Of course," he conceded, "that's only fair. But in that case, no tricky Manticore stuff, like figuring out where it will land beforehand. At least try for pure luck." She nodded again.

"Only fair," she parroted. Max gripped the bottle, forcing herself not to think about angles and speeds and drag impact. She flicked her wrist and let go, and the bottle spun on the threadbare, blue carpet. Without meaning to, or noticing the other doing it, they both found themselves holding their breath. The glass glinted as the bottle slowed, gradually coasting in ever decreasing circles until it came to a stop… pointing back at Max. She shrugged. "Guess luck was on my side tonight," she quipped. Alec eyed her suspiciously.

"Right," he muttered. He scowled at the bottle for a moment, and his eyes lit up. He grabbed and spun it before Max could protest. "My turn now," he stated. He watched Max's face as the bottle started to slow, and couldn't help notice the way she was lightly biting her lower lip. He knew she was trying to calculate the outcome of the spin before it came, and felt a little insulted.

She looked up and caught him staring, and he was suddenly aware of the tension that had settled between them. He panicked, albeit briefly, hating himself for screwing with the calm of the evening. For making things so suddenly awkward between them. So he did something he didn't fully want to do. He grabbed the bottle before it landed on Max. And she did something he didn't expect her to do. She grinned at him. A positively wicked expression, preceding a positively evil movement. Those full lips mouthed one word at him.

Wimp.

Suddenly sober, and irked, he glared at her. He tossed the bottle behind him and heard it bounce twice before slamming into the wall. He dropped onto his front and lay back down, letting his body lie flush alongside Max's. He pressed his face into the carpet and growled. He felt the soft thud as she dropped down on her back beside him.

"You're so annoying," he informed Max/the carpet. Which he realised didn't smell so great. The carpet, that is.

"I learned from the best," her voice was sing-song. Eerily bright and close to his ear. He turned his head and, with a start, found they were nose to nose. He wondered just how drunk she still was. "Don't worry," she whispered, "I'm sure you'll find a girl who is just about dumb enough to fall for that trick… one day." She paused and closed her eyes. "Until then, I hope you can settle for this." She angled her head slightly, and didn't even notice Alec's shocked expression as she gave him a quick, chaste kiss on the lips. She dropped her head back so they were nose to nose again.

He pulled his arm from between them and slung it over her waist with a smirk.

"I'm totally telling Cindy you made a move on me," he said with a chuckle. She didn't even lift her hand to hit him this time, just flicked it against his thigh.

"Whatever Romeo, like she'd believe that."

"Yeah, I wouldn't even believe that," he murmured. He ran his hand up her other arm, and tangled his fingers in the ends of her hair. She closed her eyes, and he brought his hand up to her cheek, pushing the hair there off her face. In that second, looking at the soft, - hopefully not completely alcohol induced - calm expression on her face, he made a decision. He cupped her cheek in his palm. "This is much more believable."

He traced her lip with his thumb as he pushed his hand further back, under the hair by her ear. Her eyes flickered open and he crossed the short distance between them. He braced himself for the slap he felt was sure to come as he pressed his lips against hers.

But it never came.

Alec's muscles slowly un-tensed when he felt Max's mouth open slightly against his. He pushed himself up with his other arm and scooted over so his head was directly over hers, forcing her to lift her head if she wanted to maintain the kiss. He felt almost smug when she did.

Her tongue ran over his top lip and he lowered his head, pushing hers back to the floor. He noticed all of a sudden that her eyes were closed, and the smug feeling mixed with another one in his chest. One he wasn't familiar with or entirely sure that he liked.

He lifted one leg and used his foot to nudge her legs apart. Releasing his hold on her face, (but not on her mouth) he braced his arms either side of her head and moved his body to settle between her thighs. He rested his chest against her lightly as he eased her mouth open with his tongue. Her breath was hot on his lips and her cheeks were flushed. One small, warm hand grasped his waist, the other wrapped around the back of his shoulder and pulled him closer, tighter against her. Slim fingers slipped under the hem of his t-shirt, tracing forward on his stomach. Blunt fingernails scraped at his abs. A soft moan escaped his throat before he realised what he doing

Max turned her head away, the carpet rough on her burning cheek. Alec shut his eyes and forced himself to take a slow breath.

"Max?" his voice was huskier and shakier than either of them would have liked, though for entirely different reasons.

"Mmm?" the noise was made without even turning to face him.

"I thought you said you weren't going to make out with me," she faced him finally. A small smile tugged at her lips at the levity he forced into the otherwise tense moment. "Because," he continued, "if Cindy asks, that totally counts." She squeezed his waist. Hard. He flinched.

"Idiot," she muttered. The small smile on her lips spread into an indecipherable smirk. With transgenic grace and speed, she flipped them. Alec now lay under her, denim clad legs straddling his thighs. "Thought you were meant to be a tomcat? You think that was making out?" Alec grinned as she lowered her face back to his. She tugged at his lower lip with her teeth and he groaned low in his throat. Then she was kissing him, really kissing, not just passively accepting his kiss. She tasted like whisky and Alec knew he did too, but he didn't care. The entire world dissolved around him, devolved into the firm body above him and the taste of second hand whisky.

He gripped her face as that sneaky little hand crept up, under the hem of his t-shirt again, fingers splaying on hyper sensitized skin. More transgenic fluidity, and she pulled herself from his grasp and his t-shirt over his head, flinging it aside. Her mouth descended on his neck and the tendon there was a steel cord. All levity was gone, the air around them felt thick as she ran her nails across his pecs. When teeth scraped his Adam's apple, he grabbed her waist and rolled them. He pinned her beneath him as he planted slow, tortuous kisses down her throat

He released one of her arms to reach for the zipper of her hoodie. She grabbed his hand and interlaced their fingers. Of everything, that almost made Alec pause. It had nothing to do with drunken want, nothing to do with cheeky flirting or childish games. He felt absurd as he realised the gesture seemed too intimate. He squeezed her hand briefly. Detaching their fingers carefully, he planted a soft kiss on her partially exposed collarbone, and reached for the zipper once more.

She put her hand over his again and stilled him.

"Alec," it was closer to a breath than a whisper. He looked up at her, along the column of her throat, and locked eyes. Her expression was unreadable and he frowned.

"We don't have to do this if you don't want to," he moved to push himself up but she grabbed his shoulder.

"No," she whispered, "it's not that. I want to. It's… I need… Tell me that you love me, Alec. Even if you don't mean it. I need to hear you say the words." Max saw him swallow, hard. Then he pushed himself up and crawled over her so they were face to face once more.

"I love you," his voice was gentle but his eyes were hard, "I will until the day I die. You can trust me when I promise you that." he smiled now, a hesitant, soft expression that Max had never seen before. "I'm pretty sure I was made for you… and not just in the Manticore sense." She inhaled sharply and he cupped her face with one hand. "Is that clear enough for you, Maxie? Are those the words you wanted to hear?" She closed her eyes and he ran his thumb over her cheek. He brought his mouth down beside her ear. "I love you," he breathed, "and I'm  **in**   **love**  with you. And I have been for a while." She tore her head out of his grasp and stared at him, pulse fluttering at break-neck speed in her throat. "But I think you knew that already." He finished, eyes locked on hers.

There was a moment. A silent, tense moment where both just stared at the other, neither backing down, neither giving an inch. Finally Max whispered. She didn't smile, didn't break eye contact, but her voice was warm.

"Thank you, Alec." At the sound of his name from those trembling lips, Alec's reserve broke. His control had been under a precarious grasp at best, and the sound of his name in that throaty whisper sent him tumbling over the edge. He tugged the zipper on her hoodie down. He placed a hand under her back and lifted her up so she was straddling his lap. As he pushed the offending article off her shoulders, his mouth found hers, and it was as if someone flipped a switch in them both. They became a blurring frenzy of want and need, undressing each other amongst panting breaths and flesh searing on flesh. He tugged her back on top of him after she kicked off her jeans and underwear, her breasts flush against his chest. Each could feel the others laboured breathing as their bodies rose and fell in unison against each other.

The light film of sweat on Alec's torso made Max's soft skin dewy in the muted light. She mouthed unformed words against his cheek as he held her tightly, hands splayed on her back and thumbs tracing her shoulder-blades. He burrowed his face in her shoulder as they slowed together, and she ran a hand over his neck to tangle her fingers in his hair.

Her other hand gripped his thigh hard enough to bruise. He didn't care. More than anything, he was happy for the pain, happy for the markings. Because it was proof of this, and as much as he just wanted to appreciate it, to enjoy feeling Max around him, he needed proof of it. She hadn't said those words back to him, but this was Max, and he knew better than to expect that from her. Well… Not yet at least. The markings on his thigh were his substitution, his version of her words.

So yeah, they'd be gone in a day, but for now he was glad.  
  
\------  
  
Fic Fin.


End file.
